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HESTER, 



THE BUIDE OF THE ISLANDS 



A POEM 



BY SYLVESTER B. BECKETT 




PORTLAND : 
m d ccc LX. 



^ 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by 

SYLVESTER B. BECKETT, 

Lathe Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Maine. 



PRINTED BY B. THURSTON. 



CONTENTS 



Introduction, ------- 7 

The Chieftain, 15, 27 

The Cabin, 17 

The Wrecks, 19 

The Daughter, 21 

The Companions, 23 

The Servitors, 25 

Wild Fowl, 31 

Soliloquy, --- 35 

Mysterious Music, -37 

Distant Mountains, -.-.-_' 39 
Occult Nature, ------- 41 

The Decision, ------- 43 

The Look-out, -- 45 

The Illusion, ------- 47 

The Conference, 49 — 51 

Otraska's Story, 53 — 55 

A Ship, 59 



IV CONTENTS. 

An Evening Scene, ------ 61 

Festivity, ---------63 

Fancies, 65 

The Ship at Anchor, ------ 69 

Carl's Firmness, ------- 71 

The Calm, 73 — 75 

The Tornado, 77 — 81 

The Kescue, 83 — 85 

Recognition, -------- 87 

Spiritual Visitants, 91 

Hester Revives, ------- 93 

The Inlet, - - - - - - -95 — 101 

Returned Home, ------- 103 

Sails Loosed Again, 107 

The Interior Lake, ------ 109 

Sympathy, __._-__- m 

A Domestic Scene, ------ 113 

The Banished Chief, ------ 117 

Exile, - - 119 

The Encounter, ------- 121 

An Escape, 123 

The Jew, - 125 

Duty Indicated, ------- 129 

The Range op Thought, ------ 131 

The Captive, 133 

The Dungeon, -------- 135 

A Proposal, 137 

Bitter Musings, 139 



CONTENTS. V 

Deliverance, - 143 — 147 

Moralizing, - 149 — 151 

The Desert, 155 

A Mountain Ravine, - - - - 157 — 159 

A Vision, 161 

The Red Sea, 165 

Precursors op Storm, - 167 

The Kamsin, 169 

Premonition, 171 

An Unexpected Visitor, 173 

Inspiration, - 177 — 179 

The Knight's Command, 181 

Night Scene in Petra, ----- 185 

The Jewess, -------- 187 

A Declaration, - - 189 

A Break in the Story, ------ 191 

Oriental Customs, 193 

The Approaching Army, ------ 199 

Battle Array, - - 201 

The Battle, 203 — 213 

Life's Questionings, 217 

The Wounded Knight, 219 

Mutiny, - 223 

Jews of Damascus, ------- 225 

The Bridal, 227 

Hester Disconcerted, 229 

Damascus — its Fame, 231 

Damascus — its Scenery, 233 — 235 



VI CONTENTS. 

Damascus — its Women, - - - - - 237 

The Jew's Last Hours, 241 — 251 

Fate op the Jewess, 255 

The Lone Grave, - 257 

The Power op Love, - 259 

Fall op the Knight, ------ 261 

Hubart's Return, ------ 265 

The Unwelcome Letter, - - - - - - . 267 

An Urgent Appeal, - - - - - - 269 

A Sudden Resolution, 271 

The Old Church, - - 275 

The Wedding, - - 277 

Unexpected Detention, 281 

A Storm Brewing, ------- 283 

The Tempest, - - - - - - - 285 

The Night Bugle, 287 

Reminiscences, ------- 289 

Belated Travelers, ----- 291 — 293 

A Riddle Solved, - 297 

Fortitude, -------- 301 

Explanations, 303 — 307 

Wrecks of Harvest, 311 

Asceticism, - - - -- - - - 313 

Longing for Home, * T 315 

Otraska's Fate, - - 317 

Notes, 321 — 336 



INTRODUCTION 



Gone, gone forever — and well gone, perchance — 

■ 
Are the blithe days when wandering troubadour 

In camp and castle sang the deft romance, 

'Midst din of warlike strife or wassail roar ; 

Yet, maugre that those roistering days be o'er, 

And prosier times and plainer themes require 

Our notice — howsoever we deplore 

Their wealth of myth and pageant to inspire 

Our dreams, still are there those devoted to the lyre ! 

Thus have I from life's highways turned aside, 

A stranger, little trained in song to tune ; 

Who ne'er have dreamed by Mincio's classic tide, 

Or climbed Parnassus ; or held soul-commune 

With old-time bards ; or aped the sandal shoon 

Which wandering minstrel marked, and gleeman vest, 

And hence may scarce show patent for the boon 



, 8 INTRODUCTION. 

Of poesy — yet am I oft impressed 

With idyl, type, and rhyme, which will not let me rest ! 

I wander on lone islands where the waves 

Press shoreward, plumed with foam, in march sublime ; 

The unconquered billows! — tramping to the staves 

Of the loud-piping breezes, and the chime 

Of their own clashing cymbals, and the rhyme 

Of the Almighty, in embattled reach ; 

My soul to their wild music keepeth time, 

And pains for power to stamp the thoughts they teach 

With score indelible, on scope of mortal speech ! 

So in the unsunned forest's aisles of shade — 
Tired of life's fret and turmoil without end, 
I fly the ways of mankind, and invade 
Their dreamy haunts, and the great trees extend 
Their broad palms down to greet me as a friend 
Most loving, and where'er I turn I hear 
As 'twere the quest, Interpret us ! lend, lend 
Your written tongue ! — in soul speech, yet as clear 
As though an angel's trump had pealed it on the air ! 

The mountains draw up their huge chests, and talk 



INTR ODUCTION. \t 

Grand words whose gist there needs not helps to know ; 

The streams that leap their mural cliffs, or walk 

In calmer mood the deep ravines below, 

To meet me ; and the embattled crags that throw 

Their shadows o'er the wild glens, and make night 

Eternal in their depths — responsive, slow, 

But eloquent of speech, all prompt to write 

The ways of inner life, as they would fain indite ! 

And even in the maelstrom rush and roar 

Of life along the teeming thoroughfares 

Of the great mart of trade forevermore — 

Wrung out as 'twere from all its busy cares 

And toils, its misery, pomp, parade, and prayers, 

And desolations, echoes far and lone 

The voice ventriloquous, and often shares 

My hours of thought, the spirit- undertone 

Of 9 11 combined, to urge like service on me prone! 

By night ! by day ! Merged in the rush of men, 
Or in the solitude ; in toil, in ease — • 
Come these weird promptings; from the lonely glen, 
The grassy meadow weltering in the breeze, 
The wood-girt lake wherein the cloudlet sees 



10 INTRODUCTION. 

Itself reflected ; from the sterile plain, . 
The flowers, the birds, the countless harmonies 
Of nature ! — All things, vast or seeming vain — 
All have their voices, all join in the ceaseless strain ! 

Write ! write ! The impulse haunts me as the wind 

The gateway of some deeply-sunken bend 

Of rugged alpine pass — what comes to mind 

Write ! and with converse we will interblend 

Your hours of thought, and when your song is penned, 

Cast it upon life's hurrying stream to ride 

The jostling current, whitherward it wend, 

And patiently, without disquiet bide 

The issue — only thus shalt thou be satisfied ! 

Hence have I sung ; and now I fling my thought 

As'prompted, on the wild, tumultuous stream ; 

What of it hath poetic worth, if aught, 

Has haply come of Nature — here a gleam 

From some external phase, anon a dream 

Of inspiration ! Give it praise or blame, 

Or pass it without comment, as may seem 

To you most meet ; with me 'tis all the same ; 

I hymn because I must, and not for greed of fame ! 



BOOK FIRST 



CHAPTER I 



Far in the North, whose vigorous clime 
And wintry storms have been the theme 

Of many a satire, from all time 
With those who only love to dream 

Of never-ceasing tropic heats, 

There is a broad and sheltered Bay, 

Begemmed with islands, green retreats 
That 'neath the deep-skied summer day, 
Gleam o'er the wave with lone array 

Of towering forests, rocky steeps, 

Green dunes and dells, and glimmery sweeps 

Of sand beach — grooved with cove and creek 

Where weary fisherman may seek 

For shelter from the storm ; hence sprung 

The name of Casco which it bears, 
2 



14 



HESTEK. 



Importing in the Indian tongue 
A resting place from toils and cares ! 

Of all these isles, for many a league, 
When first the European came 
To their wild shores for greed or game, 
None was more beauteous than Chebeague ; 
And here, despite the red-man's frown, 
One of the hated Saxon race 
Had made himself a dwelling place — 
Afar from fortalice or town, 
Where he might succor find at need ; — 
His very recklessness to heed 
The wily savages indeed, 
Upon their natures won, and gave 
His word, or look, a power to save, 
Afar and near, whate'er the strait, 
Winning at least respect from hate. 

And otherwise, his well-knit form, 
Tall and erect, his eye of fire, 
Keen as the eagle's roused to ire, 



THE CHIEFTAIN. 15 

His visage swart with sun and storm, 
His firm, proud step, his iron nerve 
That ne'er from danger cared to swerve, 
Were traits to win on their good will 
As well as on their fears ! And still 
Was there about his ways an ease, 

A grace of port, which spoke of power 
'Midst the refined to sway and please — 

Perchance in many a foregone hour, 

In senate hall or lady's bower 
Displayed. However this might be, 
None seemed to know his history ! 

'Twas deemed he sought to cloak his mind, 
So little did he seem inclined 
To speech — while not the evening wind 
In its soft utterances more mild ! — 
And with the Indians he was styled, 
Sententiously, The Silent Tongue ! 
Yet when occasion called, so clear 
And keen his accents stung the ear, 
They seemed electrical ; among 



16 HESTER. 

The hosts of battle's fierce array, 
Where thickest centered the affray, 
They would have won implicit sway, 
And hurled the staggering squadrons on. 
With thunder shock to victory won, 
Or turned them back in proud retreat 
From decimation or defeat ! 

So Knox long years thereafter, when 
America with Albion's might 
Was pitched in desperation's fight, 
With thunder voice controlled his men - 
Though in the* battle's sulphurous pall 
Wrapped from his eye, when bugle call 
Had sounded oft and shrill in vain, 
Amidst the wildering hurricane, 
To hurl them onward or restrain — 
Controlled, and had the power to wield 
O'er all the tumult of the field ! 

His habitation, staunch and rude, 
Accorded with the solitude 



THE CABIN. 



17 



And lonely aspects of the wild ; 

Its walls the fragrant larch trunks piled 

Upon each other, but so hewn 

And fitted that the sea-born gale 
Oft wont, when nights grew long, to tune 

Adown the rocks its spectral wail, 
O'er all their surface sought in vain 
For chink or interstice, to gain 

Admittance with the mournful tale ; 
While birch-rind from the neighboring hill, 
Stitched and adjusted with a skill 
Learnt of the red man, formed a roof 
'Gainst all the storms of winter proof! 

Wainscot and floors of glabrous deal 
Within, did service to conceal 
Defects, and give an atmosphere 
Of snugness and of homely cheer ; 
While round the windows, o'er the door 

And stoop, were bits of carvings quaint — 
Sea-griffins, ghouls, such as of yore 

The ship-wright loved to carve or paint, 



18 HESTER. 

To deck some favorite craft — debris, 
Which, haply years long, coursing o'er 

The winding currents of the sea, 
At length were borne to this far shore ; 
And marking them, the thoughtful mind 

Was led unconsciously away 
To ponder what strange haps combined 

To beach them in this lonely bay ! 

Whence did they come ? In what far land 
Was fashioned by the builder's hand 
The stately vessel they bedecked ? 
In what strange quarter was she wrecked ? 
Was it beneath the sweeping wave 

That lashed some bleak and dreary coast 
Of arctic wilds, long tempest tost, 
Her wildered sailors found their grave — 
Where mankind shun to make a home, 
Her timbers strewed the breakers' foam ? 
Or was it on the southern main, 
While wrestling with some hurricane, 
That iron bolt and oaken grain 



THE WRECKS, 19 

Gave way ? Or were her ribs of oak 
Crushed inward by the lightning's stroke, 
In some unlooked-for gust, where none 
Might hear her booming signal gun ? 

Or does the hulk from which were torn 
These fragments, rude and tempest worn, 
Still on the lonely billows ride, 
Wherever gale or currents guide — 
The long sea-mosses from her side 
Out-trailing like a mermaid's hair — 
Perchance some hideous monster's lair, 
That twines his sluggish folds among 

Her blackened ribs ? or may it be, 

In lieu of grosser tenantry, 

With some recluse bird of the sea, 
Rearing within her ports her young — 
Where once the sailor sought his rest, 
Watching the lone waste from her nest 

With filmy eyes ? Such thoughts indeed 
Well might these relics quaint suggest 

To those who chanced to give them heed. 



20 



HE S TE E 



How strange that watery solitude ! 
That waste of waves ! where surge and gale- 
I sometimes think escaped the pale 
Of Nature's laws — hold revel rude, 
And roaring on from clime to clime, 
Around the lonely world spread wrack 
And desolation in their track — - 
Escaped from law, perchance, what time 
The laboring universe gave birth, 
'Midst chaos, to the groaning earth ! 

Such was the Island Home. It stood 

Amidst a spacious upland glade 
On all sides sheltered by the wood, 

Save to the south, where far displayed, 
The blue expanse of ocean lay 
Lonely and vast, for well-a-day ! 
In those times rarely did the eye 
O'er all the wide a sail descry ! 

The luxuriant woodbine from the shore 
Transplanted, and induced to trail 



THE DAUGHTER 



21 



About the stoop, and eves, and o'er 
The windows, with its glossy vail 
Of green and crimson, draped from view 

What of the work showed want of skill ; 
And such wild shrubs and flowers as grew 

Among the glens and up the hill — 
The golden rod, gay columbine, 
Wood sage, blue aster, eglantine, 
And crimson fire-weed's plumy stalks, 
Disposed along the winding walks, 
Gave evidence that woman's care 
And beautifying taste, were there. 

And thus it was : an only child, 

The lovely Hester, was the light 
Of this rude cabin of the wild ; 
The very desert would have smiled 

In such a presence ! yet despite 
Her dimpled cheek, her soft blue eye, 

Her voice so fraught with music's thrill, 
The shrewd observer might espy 

The traces therein of a will 



22 HESTER. 

That scorned restraint, the soul of firo 
That slumbered in her tacit sire. 
No less the ocean when at rest, 
In deep mid-summer quiet, mild 
And gentle as a sleeping child, 
Bears in the heavings of its breast 
The tokens of that fearful power 
Which in the storm's triumphal hour, 
O'ercomes all strength, mocks all control, 
Is of itself the ruler sole ! 

An Indian girl (Otraska named), 
Possessing all the litheness, grace, 
And strength, which signalized her race 

Ere they grew spiritless and tamed — 

Of earnest eye, and raven hair 

That flashed about her dusky chest, 

Was the companion everywhere 
Of Hester, constantly her guest. 

Few with more skillfulness could ply 
The oar than they, or trim the sail ; 



THE COMPANIONS. 23 

The same, when gloomed a windy sky, 
And hissing swept the wild wave by, 

As when scarce ruffled by the gale, 
The billow slept upon the ledge, 

And hardly the increasing tide 
Stirred with its flow the pliant sedge 

That grew upon the inlet's side, 

'Mong which the minnows loved to glide. 
Indeed, it was their chief delight, 
When combed the far seas feather-white, 
To steer out on the roughening bay 
With leaning prow and flying spray, 
And gunnel ready to submerge 
Itself beneath the flashing surge ! 

The coast and country far and near 
Had they explored ; the solitudes 
Of those interminable woods 

That inland swept, where the red deer, 

The lordly moose and caribou 

Wandered in herds ; the steeps where grew 

The beetling pines upon whose crests 



24 HESTER. 

The fierce bald eagles built their nests ; 
The dark ravines and lonely glens 
Where bear and wolf oft had their dens ; 
The outer rocky islands nude 
And desert, 'midst whose sedgy shales, 
And crags thrown up by wintry gales, 
The gull and gannet reared their brood ; 
The inlet and sequestered bay 
Where the lithe billow, got astray 
From ocean's grasp, came in to play 
On the long, listless summer day ; 
Each jutting cape, each sandy beach 
That fringed the shores in circling reach, 
Each sunny valley, sheltered dell — 
For many a league they knew full well. 

Such were these friends, whose hearts had grown 
Accordant, one in beat and tone, 
Though so at variance through their life 

Their training ; still those stormy times 
Of harsh oppression, wrong, and strife, 

With all their named and nameless crimes, 



THE SERVITORS. 25 

Prolific as they were of change, 

Oft wrought companionship as strange ! 

The other actors on our stage, 
Were two, a dame of middle age 
(Good Marjory, the household wife), 
And a grave wight whose school of life 
Had been perchance the tented field ; 

At least he had a soldier's air, 

And then the lank and silvery hair 
Trained o'er his ample brow, concealed 
But partly several sweeping scars, 
Such stern chirography as wars 
Inscribe ! And e'en though getting old, 

There was that in his deep-set eye 
And firmly measured stride that told 

Of one on whom you might rely 
When danger threatened ! In his day 

Of strength he would have been detailed 
The foremost, where some dread affray 

Demanded nerve, when others paled ; 

To stand at some weak point assailed, 



26 HESTER. 

Or storm some leaguered hold, and cope 
With odds where vain seemed even hope 



A sort of chief purveyor he, 

Or steward, stout Carl Hildebrand, 
Puissant second in command 
O'er forces of the sea and land, 
All told, as has been seen, the three — 
Hester, Otraska, Marjory — 
Unless we count a brace of hounds 
That followed his accustomed rounds, 
Huge-limbed athletes devoid of fear, 
Match for those mighty forest deer 
The moose and caribou — or still 
Distend the tale, and eke include 
The veteran anaks of the wood, 
Far marshaled over slope and hill, 
Firm-footed pine, and beech, and oak, 
With thews to dare the thunder stroke — 
Here in dark column thickly met, 
Yon trailing out upon the plain, 
As mustering for some grand campaign ; 



THE CHIEFTAIN. 27 

Anon like straggling sentries set 
Atop some wave-washed parapet ; 
With long endurance gray and knurled. 
Colossi of a primal world ! 

But of the chief we're losing sight, 
Paul Ravenswood — so was he hight — 

Some hinted, did he so incline, 
He might have claimed himself a knight 

Or baron of some famous line 
Of far-descended Saxon blood. 
There was that, plainly, in his mood 
At times, which left room for belief 

He was not what he seemed to be ; 
And rankled in his breast some grief 

Of import deep, some mystery 
Of woe which he would fain ignore, 
But which sometimes swept strangely o'er 

His heart, and shook his iron frame, 
And drove the sweat from every pore ; 

And at such times he went and came 
Like one who walks in dreams, nor gave 



28 HESTER. 

He heed to aught on land or wave ; 
As if some kyanized regret 

Were in his heart. But in what way 
It had the power anew to fret, 

And sear, and rankle, none might say. 
Still happily these moods were rare — 
His not a mind to nurse despair. 



CHAPTER II. 



The table of the chieftain — pride 
Of good dame Madge, and free as air 
To every one who came to share 
Its store — was bounteously supplied 
The seasons round. The virgin soil 
Unstinted gave with little toil 
Their bread ; and swarmed the neighboring sea 
To yield its kind as lavishly. 
The green downs furnished ample feed 
For herds and flocks of stal worth breed — 
Nor lacked they venison, when the deer 
Oft from his forest beats came near, 
And browsed and gamboled without fear 
Of man — and as to feathered game, 
So plenteous was it everywhere, 



30 



HESTER 



So little used to gun and snare, 
That Marjory had but to name 
To Carl the species which she sought, 
And as a thing of course 'twas brought ! 

And long through all the region round, 

Did it continue to abound — 

Till recent years. — I mind me well 

With what delight an aged sire, 
In my fond boyhood, used to dwell — 

While seated at his winter fire — 
Upon the theme ! Chained to my seat, 
In his rude cabin, at his feet, 
I'd hear him o'er and o'er repeat 

The wondrous tales, and never tire : 

How in the broomy solitude 

At every turn, the ptarmigan 
Whirred outward with his startled brood ; 

And how the quail, unused to man, 
Cowered spell-bound, when the hunter's aim 

Made havoc in the hurtling flock ; 



WILDFOWL. 31 

How flocked the brant when autumn came, 
And black ducks, round each sedgy rock, 

And in each lonely nook and bay ; 
What flights of pigeons filled the sky, 

Darkening like thunder clouds the day 
At times, as host on host swept by, 

With roar like tempest-ridden seas, 

Crushing to earth the bravest trees 

Like rushes, in their headlong strife 

To settle — storms of feathered life ! 

How the swan's call notes, clear and lone, 
Like hunter's horn remotely blown, 
Swept fitfully upon the ear, 

When in his migratory flight, 

He marked the signs of coming night, 
And pausing in his swift career 
High o'er the ocean, turned aside 
Upon Presumpscot's sedgy tide, 

To feed and preen his shattered plumes ; 

And how amidst the forest glooms 
The timorous partridges would 'bide 



32 



HESTER. 



The hunter's firelock, stunned, or dazed 
With the discharge, as oft he blazed 
Upon their covey. — 

Such the bent 
Of my old friend. With brow o'ersprent 
By upwards of a century's snows, 
He lay down in his last repose 
Long years ago. And not a trace 
Of him or his is to be found, — 
Hut, sheltering oak, or garden-bound, 
Or even of the lowly mound 
That marked his final resting place ; 
Yet had his tales such charm for me, 
That I have never ceased to be 
From those days up, and ardently, 
A student of the feathered race ! 



CHAPTER III 



'Twas summer — day was on the wane ; 
There had been fitful squalls of rain 
And thunder, and the clouds engrailed 
And torn, still o'er the ocean trailed 
Their sombre robes. A kindred gloom 

The elder Ravenswood depressed, 
And to and fro he paced his room, 

With knitted brow and wild unrest ! 

A missive lay upon the floor, 

With broken seal, the apparent cause 
Of this strange mood. A sudden pause 
And seizing it, his eye ran o'er 
The contents quickly. " Even here," 
At length he muttered, u no escape 



34 HESTER. 

From this close net-work ! Must I fear 
The demon ever lurking near, 

In some new aspect, some new shape, 
Just as success seems gained, to foil 
My shrewdest strategy and toil ? 
Here in this wild, where all unknown, 
I thought in exile to atone 
For the sad past ! What madman freak, 
What fiend of mischief bade him seek 
For us in this obscurity ? — 
My brain whirls ! — Hester, was it she ? 
But no ! she had none to employ 
On such an errand. 

" Sooth ! the boy 
Indites it nobly ! — Generous, high 
In purpose — ah ! but knew he why 
I shun his presence, how the world 

He paints, of beauty, love, and light, 
Would be at once to ruin hurled, 

And chaos intervene, and night ! 

" Once I was equally elate 



SOLILOQUY. 35 

With life and hope — but let that pass ! — 
'Tis well we cannot know what fate 

Keeps hoarded for us — and alas ! 
Fond boy ! 'twere better let thee grieve 
Awhile in doubt, than to deceive 
Thy heart with promise which can ne'er 
Be realized ! Thou wouldst come here, 
Across the sea, to this far land, 
To ask of me my daughter's hand — 
Her heart of hearts already thine — 
But 'sdeath ! thy suit she must decline, 
Though wedded to thy inmost soul ! " — 
And here a shudder o'er him stole — 
" 'Twas well betimes I got this scroll ; 
Forewarned, in season we must fly — 
Perhaps beneath a fairer sky, 
In some far region of the west, 
We may find secresy and rest ! 

" Or, would it be of more, avail 
To bide his coming, and the tale 
Divulge in full ? — It might be borne, 



36 HESTER. 

His rage — but no, not Hester's scorn ! 
Heaven shield me ! Of her love bereft, 
What in this sad world would be left 
Worth living for ? " — and he grew white 
As sea foam. — " What then ? do despite 
To all the longings of my heart, 
And bid him haughtily depart ; 
And counsel Hester upon pain 

Of my undying curse, no more 
This foolish fondness entertain 

For the brave youth ? " — 

Just here the door 
Swung open, and the daughter stood 
In all the bloom of maidenhood 
Before him. " Father, why that sigh ? " 

She spake — " what is it clouds thy mind ? — 

Why thus so oft to gloom inclined ? — 
I too am sad, I know not why — 
But something weighs upon my brain, 

As if some evil did impend 

Above me ! wheresoe'er I wend, 
I strive to banish it in vain ! 



MYSTERIOUS MUSIC. 37 

And most perplexing to explain, 

At times wild music greets my ear, 

Which Madge has vainly sought to hear — 

Soul-haunting strains ! Indeed I fear 

I know not what, I know not why ! " 

The father fixed his keen, gray eye 

Upon the girl, as if to read 

Her inmost thoughts — she paid no heed ; 

He saw his secret was his own, 

And breathed more freely — his alone. 

" I wonder not you seem amazed," 

The girl resumed, " and deem me crazed ! 

Strange heavenly music ! fraught with spells 

I can't describe — along the air 
It gently breathes, or sinks and swells ; 

It fills the heart, is everywhere ! 
But listen, and it fades and dies, 
Like the lark's carol in the skies 
Of our own home-land, when the bird 
Sinks in the blue, and can't be heard — 
So gradually I scarce can say 



38 HESTER. 

o 

When it has wholly passed away ! 

"And then again, I think at times 

Perchance the little bell-formed flowers 
Upon the cliffs might ring such chimes, 

Swung by the zephyrs ; or far showers 
Tinkling upon some streamlet, deep, 
And girt by sheltering rocks and trees, 
That echo to their harmonies ; 
Until some sudden, startling sweep 
Comes close upon me to confound 
The thought ! Then, every object round 
In turn seems gifted with the sound ! 

" And once those mountains far and lone, 
Heaved up against the burning sky, 
As their dim summits caught my eye, 

Seemed vocal with this phantom tone ; 

A troop of golden vapors hung 
In slumberous quiet o'er their crest, 

And to my brain the fancy sprung, 
These were pavilions of the blest, 



DISTANT MOUNTAINS. 39 

And that it was their golden lyres 
I heard — the songs of angel choirs ! 

" Dost know, dear father, of the land 

Whence tower those mighty mountains ? — Oh, 
How often when the west winds blow, 

And odors fragrant thence are fanned, 
And their lone forms are all aglow 
With rose hues, have I longed to know 

Of their green vales, their sparkling streams, 
Their jeweled caverns/cloud-wreathed peaks, 

And deep, wild glens — even in my dreams 
The same ! How many days, or weeks 

Of travel would it occupy 

To reach their confines ? Huge and high 
Indeed, of untold height they are, 

So like a shadow on the sky 

They always rest — and very far ! 

So mist-like in their dim relief ! — 

When I once asked the Indian chief, — 

Good Squanto, if his race could tell 
About them, he but shook his head, 



40 HESTER. 

And turned away, as if with dread ! — 
I wonder if of mankind dwell 
Among their valleys, calm, and free, 
And happy, ignorant of crime 
And law I Sure if there be a clime 
Arcadian, as in poesy 
Is sung, who knows but it may be 
Among those blue, lone steeps, afar 
From the world's turbid rush and jar ? 

" But these are fancies, you may say ; — 
Not so with this weird music, nay ! 
Just as I tell thee do I hear, 
Distinct, and definite, and clear ! 
'Tis no chimera of my brain ! " — 
" Nor do I doubt, but can't explain ; " 
Returned the parent — " 'Tis not new 

To me that such things are, or seem ; 
Thy mother, ere she bade adieu 

To earth, as in seraphic dream, 
Discoursed of such environment, 

Blest visions, soul-entrancing strains, 



OCCULT NATURE. 41 

Which wrapped her being so intent, 

That all forgotten were her pains ! — 
Some hold such marvels have their source 

With dwellers in immortal day, 
With whom we may hold intercourse, 

The circumstances favoring, may ; 

But as to this, I've naught to say. 
Man's an enigma — sense, life, breath, 
Thought, visions, locomotion, death — 
Evolving ever some new phase 

His shrewdest student to confound ; 
A riddle none have solved, a maze 

None can, none ever will expound ! 

" I know not but these things are so ; 
'Twere well, however, to be slow 
To heed, e'en where we think we know ; 
But in my wanderings in the East, 

I met with earnest, thoughtful men, 
Who claimed supernal powers — at least, 

The Past and Future to their ken 
Seemed as the Present. Like a roll 



42 HESTER. 

Well conned my whole life seemed to be, 
The secrets of my inmost soul, 

To these adepts of mystery ! 
I sought induction to their rites, 

Became as an acolothist 
Among them, and weird sounds and sights 

Familiar were, till scarce I wist 

Myself a being of earth ! But list ! 
We will not further talk prolong — 
The whippoorwill begins his song, 
And day has faded from the west — 
Thy nerves, it may be, lack for rest ; 
Go to thy dreams — the good and true 
Have naught to fear — till morn adieu ! " 

She rose and stooped her snowy brow 

To meet his kiss, then left the room, 
Wondering at his strange mood ; and now 

Reverting to the ruthless gloom 
That had enthralled his breast before, 
Again he wildly paced the floor — 
Paced up and down, and to and fro, 



THE DECISION. 43 

Now with quick strides, now lingering, slow — 
At length he paused, and muttered — " No ! 

She did not read me ; and that tale 

Of marvel was of some avail ; 
But how escape the threatened blow ? 
Should we attempt again to fly, 

To seek concealment from this youth, 
Is there a land beneath the sky 

That would escape his search ? — In truth 
'Twere futile ; better far deny 
His suit at once ! — It shall be done 
Before goes down to-morrow's sun ! 
Yes, my poor girl ! however hard 
It may be for thee to discard 
The stripling, 'tis the last recourse — 
But love must seem my guide, not force, 
In this proceeding, for full well 
I know that once roused to rebel, 
No earthly power would serve to quell 
Thy spirit. — Now to con my task ! 
The story to assume, the mask 
To cloak my purpose, and conceal 



44 HESTER. 

My throbbing heart, come wo, come weal ! " 

And here, aweary of his woes, 

The chieftain sank into his chair, 

And soon in sleep was lost to care — 
Nor did he stir from his repose 
Till the red streaks of morning threw 

Athwart the dusky room their glow ; 

When roused, with measured step and slow, 
He sought the dreaded interview ! — 

What came thence, 'tis enough to know 
That hours thereafter, wrapped in thought 
Intense, at times like one distraught, 
The pale girl wandered, so intent 
On some keen pang, that where she went 
She knew not ; yet one faithful friend, 

Alert to mark the passion-whirl 
That thralled her, managed to attend 

Unseen her steps, — the Indian girl 
Otraska — flitting stealthily, 
From rock to rock, from tree to tree ; 

Now coming near with breathless hush, 



THE LOOK-OUT. 45 

And step so light as scarce to crush 
The delicate anemone ; 
Now in some long detour with speed 

Of the young frightened fawn to fly, 
O'er knoll, and rock, and grassy mead, 

Yet so as not attract her eye, 

But always in a moment nigh ! 

And Hester, rambling on, at length, 

With throbbing brow and failing strength, 

Attained a lofty bluff, and sank 

O'erwearied on its mossy bank. 

It was a cherished spot, a steep 
Surmounted by a mighty pine, 
That prone above the hissing brine, 

Had ages balked the tempest's sweep, 

And seemed in its strong boughs to hold 

Life-lease of ages yet untold ! . 

Here oft beneath the grateful shade, 

In converse with the Indian maid, 
Had she the summer evening passed, 
Scanning the lone and shadowy vast, 



46 HESTER. 

As if to catch some distant mast, 
That in its advent still delayed ; 
And still and still shunned to appear, 
Though sought when other nights drew near ! 

The cool breeze kissed her fevered cheek, 
And tossed, in wantonness and freak, 
The brown locks o'er her pearly neck, 

And from her bosom loosed the dress 

To revel with its snowiness — 
A freedom which she did not reck, 
Or, conscious of, cared not to check ; — 
The billow, scouring up the bay 

With lifted crest and fleet career, 
Leaped like a thing that seeks its prey, 

Above the sunken ledges near, 
And belching high its eager spray 
Towards her, strove to climb the rough 
And shaggy ramparts of the bluff ; 
But foiled, retired, reluctant, slow, 
And seemed with elfin voice and low, 
While swinging back, and to and fro, 



THE ILLUSION. 47 

To beckon her to seek relief 

On its broad bosom, for her grief ; 

And pressing near, the sea-born gale 

Repeated the alluring tale, 

And even the little cliff flowers bent 

And beckoned — nodding their assent ! 

So strongly this illusion grew 

Ere while, that she arose, and drew, 

Like as one dreaming, to the verge, 

And looked down wistful at the surge, 

That seemed all o'er with rainbows dyed, 

As for reception of a bride ! 

She stooped — Otraska to her side 

Sprang swift as light, and grasped her arm ; 

At once was broke the fearful charm ! — 

" The pale face Hester lacks for rest ; " 
At length the faithful Indian spake — 

" A shadow broodeth on her breast, 

The night-storm on the pleasant lake [**' — 

" Storm ! sayst thou ? — shadow ! — these pass by 

And leave a fairer, bluer sky ; 



48 HESTER. 

Nay, not a shadow — Oh, my brain ! 

And then to think from whom the pain ! — 

" Otraska, doth the Indian know 

What 'tis to love ? Didst ever feel 
Thy pulses hound, thy bosom glow — 

A thrill o'er all thy senses steal, 
When he approached— the loved and true, 
And noble — who e'en rendered you 

More of devotion than you gave ? 
Such was Lord Hubart, whom I knew 

In my far home beyond the wave ; 
Fate severed us, — we had to fly 
(My parent, wherefore should not I ?) 
So suddenly — I scarce know why — 
They gave me not a moment's space, 
A single farewell line to trace ; 
Bat hurried with a headlong speed 

On board a ship ; the winds were free, 
And ere I well could think indeed, 

We were out on the wide, lone sea. 
Four years have vanished since our flight, 



THE CONFERENCE. 49 

Nor from that inauspicious night, 
Have I from merry England heard, 
Nor of Lord Hubart, even a word ! " 

" And wherefore does the pale face wait 

So long ? Has she not power to send 

A token to her absent friend ? " 
" Yes, but for dread of dubious fate — 
'Twas hinted some affair of state 

(A thing you scarce can comprehend, 
Otraska) bade my father flee ; 

And freedom, safety, may depend — 
E'en life — upon our secresy ! 
And yet sometimes I am in doubt 

But that it all refers to me ; 
But how or why, cannot make out ! 

'Tis all a weft of mystery — 
Ne'er more confounding than this morn, 

When with the sun my father came, 
Pale and perplexed, and overworn, 
As if with some vexed passion torn. — 

At last he mentioned Hubart' s name — 



50 H E S T E E . 

And when I felt the warm blood flush 

My features, as it ever will 
At that loved sound, he marked the blush, 

As with an agonizing thrill ; 
And then what did he, but implore 
That I would banish evermore 
All thought of Hubart from my heart ! — 
Not slow to note my sudden start 
At this rude blow — 'twas for my sake, 

He wildly urged ; my future rest 
And happiness were all at stake 

On my assent to this request. 

" In vain I strove the fact to state, 
I had not known of Hubart' s fate 
For years — or if alive or dead — 
Indeed, I scarce know what I said — 
He only sadly shook his head ; 

It seemed to aggravate his pain ! — 
And herein seemed his greatest dread, 

That I should ask him to explain I 
Our words grew warm ; I begged for time 



THE CONFERENCE 



51 



To ponder o'er this seeming freak ; 
He plead, 'Twas scarcely less than crime ! — 

But said at last, that for a week 
Peremptory duties called him hence — 

And if at all he must delay, 
The time was fixed — my better sense 

Meantime would lead me to obey ; 
The more as for my weal alone 
He urged the prayer, and not his own. — 
Then leaving, with a kind caress, 

So fond, and yet beseechingly, 
I could but pity his distress, 

Whilst mine own had no sympathy — 
Resolved, perplexed, elated, sad, 
By turns — this clash will drive me mad ! " — 

" Hugh ! " cried the Indian, in reply, 

Whilst limbs, nor breath, nor tawny skin — 

Naught but her fixed and lustrous eye, 
Gave token of the heart within — 

" Perhaps dark tidings may have reached 
The pale faced sachem of the isle, 



52 HESTER. 

Of this young brave ? "— 

" His truth impeached ! " 

Said Hester, with a scornful smile, 
" His fame, his honor doubted — no ! — 
Wherefore such mystery if 'twere so ? 
I sometimes grasp another thing — 
He once gave me a signet ring, 
Constructed with a hidden spring 
So fixed, none would the ruse suspect, 
Or fancying it, could well detect ; 
Within its cavity I placed 
A word or two minutely traced, 
In short, the simple words ' Still true ' ! 

And freighted thus, dispatched it hence ; 
Who knows but this has had to do, 

If wrong has come, with the offense ? 
Old Squanto took it on his way 
To visit Massachusetts Bay, 
Whence furthered it would go by sea ; 
I know your kin's fidelity ! 

He would have answered with his life 
Upon its safe delivery ! 



otraska's story. 53 

But this but guesses at the strife 
In which I am involved. — 

" Ah me ! 
My best friend, guard that trustful heart ; — 
How ! why that cringe, that sudden start ? 
Hast thou seen trouble ? By the nonce ! 

I hardly had supposed it so." — 
" Otraska had a lover once ; " 

Quoth the red girl, in voice so low 
And mournful, that the listener's breath 
Was checked as by the hush of death 
To hear — " the noblest of his race 

Was young Cashura — as the oak 
For strength, the slender fir for grace ; 

The old braves listened when he spoke, 
For wisdom beamed upon his face ; 
The last was he upon the chase 
To tire, the first to track the foe, 
And none who dared his vengeful blow 
Escaped — yet frank and kind as brave — 

The white man's truest friend — he fell ! 

How, let the white man's rifle tell ! — 



54 HESTER. 

I know the pathway to his grave, 
In the deep forest where the day 
Comes with but dim and timid ray — 
I often seek his place of rest, 
To strew the wild flowers on his breast." — 
* Sad tale ! " said Hester, as with awe ; 
" Otraska must have felt the sting 
Of anguish, deep and withering — 
My kin have much to answer for ! " — 
" The Indian girl did suffer grief ! " 
Was the response — " she loved her chief ! 
And dearly has the white man paid 
For life so heartlessly betrayed ! " 

The English maiden's blood ran chill 
At these last measured words, but still 
With calmness she essayed to speak — 
" I too Cashura's grave will seek 
With the red girl." — Otraska shook 
Her head despondent ; yet her look 
Showed untold thanks, as she replied, 
"No, lady ! evil would betide — 



otraska's STORY. 55 

His spirit might be grieved, I fear, 
Should foot of pale face venture near ; 
Otraska hither goes to moan, 
And chant the song of death, alone ! " 

Heart-stricken, Hester turned away 

To hide the tears she could not stay ; 

" Thus for my countrymen's sad deeds ! " 

At length she murmured — " from such seeds, 

A harvest choked with noxious weeds 

Wherefore not readily foretell ? — 

Otraska ! they belie thy race, 
Who say that gentle thoughts ne'er dwell 

With such — beneath that frigid face 
A wealth of feeling lies concealed, 

Which, goaded into angry mood, 

Might gloat in treachery and blood ; 
But fostered properly, would yield 
The kindlier virtues in such store, 
As earth had never known before ! " 



CHAPTER IV. 



A shout ! It was Carl Hildebrand, 

Upon the opposite rocky knoll, 
Returning, gun and game in hand, 

From his accustomed daily stroll, 
Who hailed ; a ship approached the strand ! 
A ship ! caught they the words aright ? 
For such was an unwonted sight 

To that uncharted, lonely sea ! 

And turned the maidens eagerly, 
All other feelings put to flight, 
To scan the waste. A vessel sure ; 
Against the sky's blue wall, far o'er 
The waves she crept, cloud-like and dun, 

Inbound perchance for Richmond Isle, 
Thus sighted early by the sun 



58 HESTER. 

Which just betrayed her canvas pile ; 
But gradually clomb sail on sail 

Above the broad horizon's brim, 
Pressed by the jocund Southern gale, 

Until the phantom gray and dim, 
Grew palpably upon the view, 
A thing of pride and grandeur grew, 
And life-like in her onward march, 

Drove the green surges as in play, 

In troops before her up the bay, 

Or rolled them them o'er in foam and spray ; 
The noblest thing 'neath heaven's high arch ! 

She scorned the shore, approaching near, 
And turned away ; and soon again 

With leaning spars, in full career, 
Was out upon the lonely main, 

Her white wings hugging close the gale, 

Behind her far a sparkling trail — 

A gossamery weft of snow, 

Which the vexed waves toss'd to and fro, 

As if with the intent to show 



A SHIP. 59 

Indignity towards this queen 

Of ocean with the lofty mien ! 

To the far sea-brink did she spin 
The fleecy band. And Hester saw 
Chagrined, the buoyant craft withdraw ; — 

As though she had but just looked in 

A moment from her lonely home 

Amidst the wide, wild ocean's foam ! — 

But ere her haven she can hail, 
Another day must flush the sky ; 
Already do the gannets fly 
Towards the land, and night is nigh ; 

And with the coming shades the gale, 

Checked by the falling dews, will fail. 

Even now the breeze more gently fanned 
Her pinions, and again she turned, 

Joy ! joy ! — towards the welcome land ! 
And when the last bright embers burned 

Of sunset on the purple walls 

Of Wampanhegan's mountain halls, 

Far inland, flushing earth and tide 



60 HESTER. 

With glory, effluent and wide, 

She dropped her anchor off the shore ; 

Then from her smooth black side there broke 

A sudden puff of snowy smoke, 
And boomed the signal gun — a roar 
That waked the echoes o'er and o'er, 

Of caverned rock, and sleeping wood, 

And deep untrodden solitude, 
And died upon the golden floor 
Of ocean, roaming many a league, 

The lonely waters, where no ear 

Of man, the heavy peal might hear ; 
And then as one that feels fatigue, 
She folded her white wings to rest, 
And slept upon the billow's breast. 

Slowly the night stole up the sky ; 

The weary gale had hushed its breath, 
And all was as the trance of death, 

Save the belated sea-bird's cry, 

Or when the waves knocked 'gainst the ledge, 

Or, clutching with the heavy sedge, 



AN EVENING SCENE. 61 

Drew the long tresses o'er its edge, 

And tugged to keep them down the brine, 
As 'twere, — with hisses which might seem 
Like some sea-griffin's smothered scream— 

So foemen sometimes intertwine, 

And pant and struggle in a strife 

That only deigns to cease with life ! 

Night deepened beautiful and calm ; • 
The lambent atmosphere all balm 
With breath of flowers, that secret grew 

In glens, and nooks, and coverts, known 

To the dun hermit-grouse alone, 
Or which the foot of man ne'er knew, 
Abroad lured by the gentle dew ; — 
The maidens had the cottage sought — 
And Hester, lost in dreamy thought, 
Sat just within the rustic stoop, 
From which, in many a wreath and loop, 
The wood-bine's tasselled fringes hung — 
Her friend Otraska near her, flung 
Beneath the oak, whose branches made 



62 HESTER. 

In summer heats the household's shade, 
And with its wide-spread, leafy woof, 
Was almost to night's dampness proof; 
And not a shrub or leaflet stirred — 
Nor chirp of cricket, nor of bird, 
Disturbed the trance so deep and still, 
Not even the nightly whippoorwill. 

Oh, words can scarcely paint such scene ! 
The wide, dim sea, and to the right 
The anchored ship, were full in sight ; 
And rising in the east serene, 
With pearly veil just drawn aside 
From her pavilion, night's fair bride, 
The moon, looked down with loving glance 
Upon the mystic, dim expanse — 
So mild her light as scarce to fleck 
The tiny wavelets, when they strayed 
Beyond the steep cliff's wooded shade ; 
And from the stranger vessel's deck 
Each murmur rose distinct, and clear, 
And musical, upon the ear. 



FESTIVITY. 63 

O'erjoyed those voyagers seemed once more 
To greet the teeming, fragrant shore — 
The words they spake, the songs they sung, 
Were in the English girl's own tongue ; 
And on their harmony she hung, 
Till following fancy's winding maze, 
She trod the scenes of other days, 
The cynosure of pride and praise, 
And to that faithful heart was pressed — 
How fondly cherished and caressed ! 

One voice on board rose full and free, 

And more than any other stirred 
The secret founts of memory — 

She caught and treasured every word ; 
'Twas thus the stranger sang, and gave 
His soul, as 'twere, in every stave ! 

SONG. 

The evening tints bedeck the sky, 
The setting sun smiles on the s 



sea 



64 HESTER. 

The woods and hills the pageant vie ; 
But wert thou near to look with me 
- How lovelier far the scene would be ! 

I trace the wild fowl speeding on 

Far through the amber-lighted dome, 

Till in the dim horizon gone ; 

Once they induced a wish to roam, 
But now thou art my heart's sole home ! 

I mark the beacon's steady gleam, 
Along the distant, fading shore, 

Through twilight's calmly falling dream ; 
So steadily, unchanging, pure, 
My heart turns to thee evermore. 

There's not a scene, a star, a bloom, 
Hath aught of beauty to my view — 

So closely clings my cherished doom — 
Save thou art near to witness too, 
And then how rose-hue d, bright, and new ! 



FANCIES. 65 

But go ! thou art estranged — 'twere well 
We were oblivious that we've met ! 

Still in my bosom's inmost cell 
Thine image is forever set, 
And I at least can ne'er forget ! 

Hast never marked how some wild strain, 
That comes unlooked for to the sense, 

Will wake an echo in the brain, 
Far off, or more or less intense, 

As if it had been there before ? 

Not that the listener may explore 

The past, and tell the when or where ; 

Hence earnest students would declare 

Such things suggest a previous life, 
Are glimmerings of another sphere, 
Where mortal man did once inhere, 
And ran, perchance, a checked career, 
Ignoble or sublime, long ere 

He trod the present stage of strife. 

Thus Hester hung upon each note 



66 HESTER. 

Entranced, and when they ceased to float 
Across the wave, around her cast, 
And vainly importuned the past — 
How fondly, urgently — to tell 
The secret of their mystic spell ! 
She thought of her betrothed, but no, 
E'en had he haply found his way 
Across the sea to this far bay — 
And marvel 'twere, if this were so — 
His voice had not such depth and flow ; 
Still was the riddle unexplained. — 
But by degrees, the merry din 
Was hushed, shout, song, and mandolin ; 
Yet not until the hours had waned 
Towards the sober noon of night, 
And in the high moon's ambient light, 
The shadows of the firs had drawn 
Around their bases, on the lawn, 
And like a timid thing lay hid 
Each 'neath its gothic pyramid. 



CHAPTER V. 



The gates of morn again unclose — 
But long ere from his couch uprose 
The Prince of Day, his herald-rays, 
In flying squadrons, all ablaze 
With gala trappings, filled the arch 
Of heaven — advanced his oriflame, 
And took possession in his name 
As 'twere — and pressed their onward march 
Far down the west. Meanwhile the deep, 
Entranced and panting still in sleep, 
Reflected back the vermeil, gold — 
The wealth of burning hues untold — 
So that the eye could scarce define 
Where blent the sky and watery line ; 
And inland each defiant hill, 



68 HESTER. 

And sea-like forest, grand and still, 
Each ridge, and slope, and towering tree, 
Far down into the realms where night 
Still swayed, plumed with the purple light, 
Enhanced the gorgeous pageantry ! 

And even the stern bluffs of the shore, 
The earth-fast battlements of rock, 
God's masonry — with billow-shock 

And cyclic ages dun and hoar — 

Begrizzled with their wiry beard 
Of stinted grasses, blandly shone, 

But with a port bizarre and weird, 

Through the thin veil which morn had thrown 

About them — veil of violet mist, 

Like dust of powdered amethyst, 

Wove of the exhaling dews I wist — 

Conforming to the wide display 

Which ushered in the Prince of Day ! 

The stranger still lay weather-bound, 
Just in the narrows of the sound, 



THE SHIP AT ANCHOR. 69 

Tall, moveless, with a look elate — 

Unchanged in her appearance, save 
That she had found a phantom-mate, 

A counter-self adown the wave, 
Where every spar, and line, and brace, 
As in a mirror, ye might trace, 
All was so tranquil ! Not a fold 
Of her regalia was unrolled — 
And uselessly did old Carl try 

To make out from her flag's emboss, 
As it hung listless 'gainst the sky, 

The outlines of St. George's cross ; 
Whilst from her wand-like top-mast fell 

Her long, gay pennant o'er the stern, 
To clasp upon the glassy swell 

One that sprang upwards in its turn, 
A rainbow-marriage ! Yet that calm, 

Embracing fiery sky and sea, 
And shore, seemed ominous of harm — 

Oppressed with its intensity ! 

And dawn to full-orbed day gave place, 



70 HESTER. 

Yet not a wandering zephyr's glance 
Disturbed the leaden, wide expanse ; 
And sultry day advanced apace, 

Still ocean slumbered as in trance. — 
Meantime the voyagers, not displeased 
As would seem, with the juncture, seized 
The hours of leisure to explore 
The deep recesses of the shore, 
In quest of game ; and jocund shout, 
And hunting firelock's sharp report, 
From glen and forest ringing out, 
With swarms of echoes to retort 
The din, told of exciting sport ! 

But doughty, glum Carl Hildebrand 
Had watched the strangers come to land, 
With eye askance — and frowned to hear 
The dissonance, nor would go near ; 
And yet 'twas plain his noble heart, 
Devoid of tinsel and of art, 
In this remissness had no part. 
Perhaps 'twas over-anxious fear 



CARL'S FIRMNESS. 71 

Of evil to his absent friend, 
Should he upon their sports attend ; 
Perhaps — but whatsoe'er might be 

The cause, if cause there were, in vain 

Did Hester cavil and complain 
Against such rude discourtesy — 
So she, half vexed, half playfully, 
Inclined to christen his neglect — 

The old man only shook his head 

As if with some instinctive dread, 
Albeit not wanting in respect ; 
Indeed, his bearing scarce had been 
More reverent, had she been a queen, 

And he some squire of low behest — 
And such invariably his mein 

Towards her. Still, but once impress' d 
With sense of duty, howe'er slight, 
As well attempt to drive the light 
Of dawn back to the realms of night, 
As put his scrup'lous fears to flight — 
A firmness grafted by the drill 
Of camps upon an iron will ! 



72 HESTER. 

At length despairing of success, 
The maiden ceased her suit to press, 
And turning to Ostraska, who 

But rarely answered with a nay 
To any scheme she had in view, 

Took boat and launched upon the bay, 
Her own pet skiff — in hope perchance 
(Like errant knight of old romance), 
That some complacent circumstance 
Would end her curiosity — 

Thus baffled all the more intense — 

Concerning who, whereof and whence, 
The stranger visitants might be. 

Beneath the shore the cool, dank trees, 

Impending o'er the emerald tide, 
Attract a slight, inconstant breeze, 

With which the maidens gently glide 
Out on the bosom of the wave, 

Now crowning with its inward flow, 
Towards the Island of the Cave, 

(The beauteous Indian Quohago,) 



THECALM. 73 

Which reared its forest green and brave, 
Westward, away a league or so, 
Like one huge emerald. Yet so slow 
Their progress, that day grew to noon, 
And still the cove and grassy dune, 
And cool oaks wooing from the sun, 
For which they headed, were not won. 

Again the wind dropped, and a spell 
Of silence deep and breathless fell 
O'er rock, and wave, and glossy wood ; 

The ospray ceased his plaintive cry, 

Aud settled downwards from the sky, 
As anxious for his callow brood ; 
The solitary more-rain hushed, 

In the deep glens, his minstrelsy, 
Upon the reef the swell scarce gushed ; 

And saving when the swift-winged bee 
Passed by them on his distant round, 
So bare was nature of all sound, 
The ear seemed rifled of its sense ! 

Meanwhile the sun, a burning ball, 



74 HESTER. 

Dropped downward from the caverned hall 
Of heaven, glowed with a power intense, 
And over wave and wold the heat 
Danced with innumerous fiery feet. 

But Hester minded not its gleam — 

Reclined against the shallop's side, 
Half consciously and half in dream, 

Her eye swept o'er the brimming tide, 
And watched above the barren rocks, 
Far out, the gannet's hovering flocks, 
Or roamed the shores of distant isles, 
And marked the inland forest trees 
Reach up as panting for the breeze ; 
That still delayed ; or turned from these, 
To scan the snow-white cloudy piles 
Which loomed along the Occident — 
Here in vast toppling volumes sprent 
With crimson shadows ; there upheaved 
In huge redoubts and towers, relieved 
Against the darkly-blue abyss, 
As outposts of some fortalice 



THECALM. 75 

Of heaven, o'er which strange banners flout 

With golden fringes, or rolled out 

In downy hollows multiform, 

Whereon the spirit of the storm 

Slept royally ! 

But not alone 

Gazed she upon that gorgeous zone 

Of towering mists ; the Indian girl 

Had watched each slowly forming curl 

And volume stealing up the sky 

By inch and inch, with jealous eye, 

And reached at length towards the oar. 
" The fierce wind-spirit comes," she spake 

In accents that would fear ignore, 

So calm — " to grasp the woods, and shake 

The sea, as shakes the wolf his prey ! " 

" Nay I " was the quiet answer — " Nay, 
My good Otraska, be at rest — 
Yon are not wind-clouds, in the west, 
But rather lengthened heat suggest — 

No fear of sudden squalls to-day ! " 

And with this thought she turned away 



76 HESTER. 

Upon the gunnel to recline, 
And gazed adown the limpid brine 
(Than which th' incumbent atmosphere 
Was scarcely more serene and clear), 
Absorbed to see the sand-drifts gleam 
And glitter to the sun's fierce beam, 
In the deep undercurrent's flow, 
And sea-plants stretch up from below, 
With bright fish swimming to and fro, 
And in and out, beneath the shade 
Her own recumbent shallop made. 

Just now a sudden, startling shock 

Aroused her from her reverie ! 
On the near shore a ponderous rock, 
Amidst a cloud of dust and smoke, 
And crash that all the echoes woke, 

Had tumbled headlong in the sea ! 
She smiled at fears she deemed but vain, 
And turned to explore the depths again. 

Once more the Indian maiden spake 



THE TORNADO. 77 

" Will the pale Hester lift her eye ? "— 
She needs no second call to wake 

Her now, to sense of danger nigh ! 
The volumed clouds enthroned in state 
About the blue heaven's western gate, 

. Have suddenly burst up the sky, 
And pictured tower and battlement 
Are in chaotic ruin blent, 
Blackened and shattered, as if rent 
By some tremendous magazine 

Exploded — or some volcan-fire 

Burst upward into awful ire ; 
The very sky seemed to careen, 
As if its walls were undermined, 

With the concussion ! Still no sound 
Came to the ear, nor breath of wind 

Disturbed the quietude profound ! 

" You augured well, my trusty friend,' ' 
Said Hester — " those swift mists portend 
No good to us ; but take the oar, 
We yet have time to reach the shore. 



78 HESTER. 

If handled with a hearty will." 

No urging needs the dusky maid ; 

Already has she seized the blade, 
And plies it with such strength and skill, 

The little shallop seems to leap 
Her length towards the land, and thrill 

As if with life at every sweep ! 
While her companion trimmed the sail 
To catch the first breath of the gale, 
Which not even yet a leaflet stirred ; 

Both saw the imminence of harm, 
Yet neither, by a look or word, 

Gave slightest token of alarm. 

Just then a smoky column, vast 

In bulk, and whirling, fiery hot, 
Like the last belching throes upcast 

From some wide conflagration, shot 
Above the forests on the main, 

To height immense ! — it was the dust 
Whirled upwards from the distant plain 

Of Casco, by the swooping gust. 



THE TORNADO. 79 

It comes ! a heavy, smothered din, 
As of a thousand rapid wheels 
Deep in some thronging city, steals 

Along the air ; and struggling in 
Its fierce embrace, the maidens hear 

The palpitating waters spin, 

And hiss, and shudder, while more near 
The trees seem shivery as with fear ! — 

" Dip deeply, good Otraska ! — ply 

Your utmost strength — but half a score 

Such sweeps, and then to toil good bye " — 
Cried Hester — " aim straight for the shore ! " 

Thus earnestly spurred in the race, 

For once Otraska dropped the mask 
Of stoicism from her face, 

And threw her whole soul in the task ; 
The knotted and empurpled veins, 

And tense cords in her arms and hands, 
The gushing sweat, the crimson stains 

Exuding from the silver bands 



80 HESTER. 

About her wrists, her knitted brow, 
Her unrobed bosom's sobbings, show 
What power the promptings of her friend 

Had, to incite her in the strife ; 

For as for self the risk of life, 
If such the tempest did portend, 
Had scarcely claimed a single thought, — 
'Twas Hester's welfare that was sought 
Alone ■ — so deep the love she bore 

For her companion. But in vain 
Her utmost toil — a moment more — 

The iron hoofs of the hurricane 
Are on the forest's sons ! — 

Just then, 

When o'ertasked strength had nearly failed 
The Indian, from the neighboring glen, 

A strong voice, swiftly nearing, hailed : 
" Give way ! give way, my noble maid ! 

Strain for your lives ! " and with a bound, 
Emerging from the leafy shade, 

A tall youth reached the rocky mound 

At hand ; but further words were drowned 



THE TORNADO. 81 

In the wild thunder-din and roar 
That burst adown the wooded shore ! 

Dim as the night when gusts enshroud 
The stars and moon in reeling rack, 
Like the first shock of the attack 

Of hostile hosts, the whirling cloud 

Disploded, with resistless sweep — 
An elemental avalanche — 
With twisted trunk and shattered branch 

Wrung from astounded ridge and steep, 

And shriveled leaves, and knotted grain, 

And dust, and gravel, from the main — 

And in its grasp the little sail 

Shot backwards with a foamy trail, 

Then bowed and blended with the wave, 
And to the wildered stranger's gaze, 
All was commingled in a maze 
Of dust, and cloud, and lightning blaze, 

Which wide and whirling, seaward drave ! 

" Great God of heaven ! they're gone ! they're 
lost!" 



82 HE S TE K. 

He slowly muttered, as he toss'd 
From o'er his brow his streaming hair, 
And scanned the seething vortex where 
He saw the shallop disappear. — 
But in the lightening atmosphere 
At length a something meets his view, 
Dim and uncertain, but it grew 
Erewhile into the human form ; 

And clearer, 'twas the Indian girl — 
Confused and blinded by the whirl 
And turmoil of the frightful storm, 
She still through all the strife sustains 
Her overwearied friend, and strains 
To bring her to the jutting reef, 
Whence he now shouts to her. But brief 
The slow, convulsive toil — her strength 
Has gone, and 'neath the waves at length 
She settles helpless, holding fast 
Her pale companion to the last ! 
The stranger youth around him cast ; 
The gale still raved ; there was no hope 
Save in himself, and could he cope 



THE RESCUE. 83 

With that wild waste ? To hesitate 
A moment, was to seal their fate ! — 
He throws himself upon the sea, 

And bravely grapples with the surge, 
Attains the spot, and happily 

Just as the drowning girls emerge 
Above the surface. As in spite 
To be thus bearded in its might, 
The storm with wilder fury stoops 
About his path, and whirls and whoops, 

As loth to yield him up its prey — 

But still he keeps the surge at bay ; 
And presently a pale face droops 
Upon his shoulder, as he turns 
Again towards the shore, and spurns 
The justling billows from his side. 
But human strength cannot abide, 
Nor human firmness, every test 

Which life's emergencies present ; 

His energy, his strength is spent, 
And wave and wind press hard to wrest 
Away his charge — his blood grows chill 



84 HESTER. 

Around his heart, his eyesight dim — 
His limbs refuse to do his will 

At length ; and clouds and forest swim, 
And rocks and breakers, round and round, 
And in his ears there is a sound 
As of shrill voices ! Then a gush, 

As close the waters o'er his head — 
And all is pleasant, dreamy hush ! 

And fiery lights, green, gold, and red, 
Dance up and down, and to and fro, 
Like shooting stars, or swift, or slow, 
Or pausing, stare with moon-like glow 

Upon him — then, as on a bed 
Of down he sank, and o'er his soul 
Scenes of elysian beauty stole, 
Such as no tongue could speak ! — 

He woke 
To sudden life ! A mighty oak 
Had been hurled downwards from the ridge 

By the tornado's arm, and lay 

With all its boughs, right in his way, 
A chance arranged suspension-bridge, 



THE RESCUE. 85 

Fast to the rift from which it fell — 
And smiting him beneath the wave 

In its descent, had broken the spell 
Which else had bound him to a grave ! 

Instinctively he reached and grasped 
The nearest branch, while still he clasped 
The lifeless maiden. But again 
Come clouds and shadow o'er his brain — 
Round and around spin sea and shore, 

And as before, strange phantasms throng 
About him ; but life comes once more, 

And staggering with his charge along 
The swinging trunk, he reached the turf 
Above the rocks, above the surf, 
And o'ercome with the effort, sank 
With that pale burden, on the bank, 
The victory won, — then all was blank ! 

But sooth ! Otraska's fate doth crave 

A moment's thought — the true, the brave ! 

We left her sinking 'neath the sea ! 



86 HESTER. 

But as a native element 

To her the wave ; and though o'er spent 
With fierce exertion, yet when free 

To act for self, she round her cast, 
And seized on such drift and debris 

As were brought near her by the blast — 
And struggling on, though numbed and sore, 
. With vitals burning as with fire, 

And scarcely strength left to respire, 
At last crept oat upon the shore, 
Behind a bluff that hid the strand 
Where Hester was conveyed to land. 

Still roared the frantic tempest by, 

And seethed and wailed the dark expanse, 
While all inwoven was the sky 

With lightning shreds, naught met her glance 
Beside — of her lost friend no trace — 
And sick at heart, she dropped her face 
Between her crossed arms, and there stole 
A lethean stupor o'er her soul. 



RECOGNITION. 87 

Meanwhile the swoon that had enchained 
The stranger youth, was giving way ; 

At last, his consciousness regained 
More fully, he arose. Still lay 

The pallid Hester, on the steep 

Where she had fallen, as in the sleep 

Of death — her temples backward thrown, 
O'er which her long, bright tresses twined 
With ribboned sea-grass, unconfined 

By comb or bandeau, darkly shone, 

Contrasting with her marble face, 
And swelling bosom's virgin snow 
Unrobed in the swift surge's flow, 

The embodiment of every grace 
That lavish nature can bestow ! 

He gently raised her head — but why 

The sudden fervor of his eye ? 

" 'Tis she ! " burst from his lips, " 'tis she ! 

High Heaven ! — and lost as soon as found ! " 
Then in a spasm of agony, 

He caught the pale girl from the ground, 



88 HESTER. 

And held her in his arms, and gazed 
Upon her features like one crazed ; 
And o'er and o'er pronounced her name, 

And from her lips one murmur craved ! — 
But thought with calmer mandate came, 

And whispered, May she not be saved 
If proper care be used and art ? 
Hope spurs the pulses of his heart, 
And joyous omen ! to his aid 
Just now crept up the Indian maid. 
Quick was her mind to comprehend 
The deathly peril of her friend, 
And eke as ready to suggest 

Restoratives ; for with her race 

'Twas sometimes made the sex's place 
To practice the physician's quest, 
And often had she marked the strife, 
In its last stage, 'twixt death and life. 



CHAPTER VI 



Life, spirit, soul ! they come and go, 
But whence or whither who can say ? 

A something dwells within, we know, 
And finds expression through the clay — 

It goes — the cold clay knoweth naught, 
'Tis as the clod, the stock, the stone, 

Inert ! that which designed, and thought, 
And sympathized, and loved, is gone ! 

But wherefore should it not be free 

To seek and own a sympathy 

With ties which still to life pertain ? 
If the soul dieth, if our years 
On earth, of discord, joys, and tears, 

Be all of life, then life is vain, 

And Heaven's great work imperfect ! No, 



90 HESTER. 

All records, past and present, show, 
With types of things still to appear, 

That not alone to psalm, and song, 
And visions of the ancient seer, 

Do these conceits (miscalled) belong ! 

No ! death is but the second birth — 

And man, immortal, oft returns, 
Lured from his spirit-home to earth 

By his affinities, and yearns, 
How fondly, deeply, to reveal 
His guardian interest for our weal ! 
This Nature's diuturnal law — 
'Twas no chimera Brutus saw 
Stride through his tent — no fleshly monk 
From whom the Imperial Russian shrunk ; 
They were not messengers of clay 
That urged the herdsman Lot away, 
Ere the doomed cities of the plain 
Sank 'neath the volcan's fiery rain ; 
No echoes did the footfalls wake 
Of that mysterious, shadowy train 



SPIRITUAL VISITANTS. 91 

Whereof the long-haired Samian spake ; 
It was no deed of art or mime 
That showed to recreant Saul his crime ; 
Nor wrote a hand of flesh the scrawl 

That stunned the royal debauchee 

Of Babylon 'midst his impious glee, 
And pointed his approaching fall ! 
Nor afterwards on Zion's hill, 

When ancient prophets reappeared, 
Was it through cabalistic skill, 

Or subtle necromancer's weird ! 

Such things are not illusions — nay ! 

Indeed, it were as well to say 
All facts our senses comprehend, 
Upon imagined myths depend ! — 

Nay ! — still do man-immortals sway 
In life's affairs ! and often blend 

With souls of earth, in sweet commune, 

As chords in some harmonious tune ; 

And where life's sympathies are strong, 

The yearning heart may eke prolong 



92 



HESTER 



(And solely by the mind-spell's reach) 
The life despaired of by the leech — 
Even though be rent the golden chain, 
Back to its house of clay again 
May lure the spirit ! Time will show, — 
Though wild the prophecy may seem 
And idle as a thoughtless dream — 
Or soon, or late, that this is so ! 
Hence not all bolts launched from the bow 
Of Death, may strike their victims low ! 

And thus Otraska's strong desire, 

When all their pains had brought no sign 
Of life, lured back the immortal fire, 
It so seemed, to its earthly shrine 
In that cold, silent tenement — 
For then, the love and longing pent 
Within the red girl's heart found vent 
In outward marks, and to her breast 
She caught the flaccid form, and pressed 
Upon that brow her lips of flame, 
And with a whispered emphasis, 



HESTER REVIVES. 93 

As awe-inspired, pronounced her name, 
And prayed her to give back a kiss, 

A pressure of the hand, a smile — 
In turn appealed, commanded, urged, 
All other aims and feelings merged 

In that one earnest thought ! And while 

She gazes, even now, the quest 

Is gained — comes back the spirit-guest ! 

Slowly the drowned girl moves — a sigh 
Escapes her lips ! — and then anew 
In swoon she sank, and marble grew ; 
Anon a deeper breath she drew, 
And wildered turned her quivering eye 
Upon Otraska, and then fraught 
With earnestness more vivid, sought 
The stranger youth. As gliff and play 
The summer lightnings far away 
O'er cloud towers at the shut of day, 
So flushed the warm blood o'er her cheek ! 
Anon her lips moved as to speak, 
And murmured " Hubart ! " 

7 



94 HESTER. 

What avail 
The warp and weft of more detail ? 
Suffice it that though chill and pale, 
Thereafter, she but knew the charm 
Of resting on her lover's arm, 
And listening to his voice elate, 
As he betimes went on to state 
The phases in his own strange fate, 
Since last they met. 

That signet ring 
Old Squanto took to Trimont Bay, 
Had to his keeping found its way ; 
The motto in its secret spring — 
" Still true " — had given to life new zest, 
And sent him o'er the seas in quest 
Of her ! And chance, or whatsoe'er 
You'd name that ever-active power 
Which balks us oft in life's career, 
Or brings about the golden hour — 
The something working for some end, 
Chance, destiny, a spirit friend, 
(Or aught that does not interfere 



THEINLET. 95 

With Heaven's supremacy and plan) 
Had moored his vessel, weather bound, 
So near her home, upon the sound ; 
And then again, while he pursued 
His hunt for game amidst the wood, 

Had flushed a timid ptarmigan, 

That hither flew and thither ran, 

Contriving always to evade 
His aim, and lured him from his mates 
A wildering circuit — thus relates 

Tradition — through the forest's shade, 

So opportunely to their aid ! 

And heaven was in their hearts ! Below 
The shelving, grassy bank at hand, 

The wavelets with a gentle flow 
Made soothing music on the strand. 

The hurricane had ceased to blow, 
But a lithe, playful zephyr fanned 

With unseen wings the impending grove, 
While the deep inlet, now serene 
As Eden, glowed a matchless scene, 



96 HESTER. 

Worthy the name of " Diamond Cove," 
By which 'twas known from earliest times ! 

But that the beauties of the bay 
Enchained their souls, it hardly chimes 

With truth or my intent to say — 
Yet am I ready to depone 

The pilgrim day-god shineth not 
On all his rounds, in either zone, 

Upon a greener, lovelier spot ! 
For still, though many a year hath flown, 

And those we treat of are forgot, 
Save in rude song and roundelay, 

That wild, secluded inlet smiles, 
In all its primitive array — 

The gem of Casco's lovely- isles ! 

'Tis sheltered from the ocean's roar 
By ragged reefs and beetling steeps, 
Against whose outer bases sweeps 

The restless wave forevermore ; 

But naught of billow-shock and din 

Disturbs the tranquil scene within, 



THE INLET. 97 

Where broad-armed beech, and oak, and pine, 

With girlish, graceful elm, entwine 

Their branches o'er its smooth expanse, 

So that the sun can scarcely glance 

At mid-day through their leafy gloom 

About the shores, or zephyr plume 

Its wings beneath the bank's green shade, 

Where the tall hermit-herons wade ; 

While forests dense which ne'er resound 

To woodman's axe, sweep far around — 

Nor is man's toil or traces there, 

But all remains as flush and fair, 

The sunny slopes, the rocks and trees, 

As desert isles of Indian seas, 

That sometimes rise upon the view 

Of some far-wandered, wind-bound crew, 

Sleeping alone midst ocean's blue — 

(From time that earth commenced to run 

Its course, unknown save to the sun, 

And drifting cloud, — or vagrant gale, 

Which, perfumed by their blooms and flowers., 
In all its rounds found ne'er a sail 



y*> HESTER. 

Before, to solace with the tale 

Of their green shores and Eden bowers !) 

The lonely ospray rears her brood 
On tall up-reaching oak or pine, 
That looks out o'er the boundless brine, 

Deep in the forest solitude ; 

And through the long, bright summer day, 
When ocean, calm as mountain lake, 
Bears not a breath its hush to break, 

The snowy sea-gull tilts away 

Upon the glittering swell that sweeps, 
With wide-curved and unbroken reach, 

Around the cliff, from outer deeps, 
Unwinding up the pebbly beach. 

Enchanting there is sunset hour, 
When twilight with a soothing power 
Steals through the forest-windings dim, 

And from the thickets, sweet and low, 
The wood-thrush tunes his farewell hymn 

To lingering day's empurpled glow ; 



THE INLET. 



99 



When slope, and rock, and wood, around, 

In all their dreamy, hushed repose, 
Are glassed adown the bright profound ; 

And passing fair is evening-close, 
When from the rosy, radiant dome, 

The sea-birds that have all the day 

Wheeled o'er the far, lone billows' spray, 
Come thronging to their eyries home ; 
When over rock and wave remote, 
From yon dim fort, the bugle's note 
Along the listening air doth creep, 

Now lost a moment in the sky, 
Anon with sudden, martial sweep, 

Through glen and forest, clanging high, 
While echo roused from her retreat, 
As if in banter would repeat 
The tumult following in its train, 
Until the wild, erratic strain, 
Coursing adown the trackless main, 

In realms of shadow seems to die. 

And those who are of thoughtful mood, 



100 HESTER. 

Who love the mystic quietude 

Of stars — night's sentinel array — 

(Like him, my early friend, the brave 

And courteous, long gone to his grave, 
With whom I oft have whiled away 
The dusky hours upon the deep, 
Which most men wisely give to sleep) , 
Will find still lovelier there, the noon 

Of night, when as a fairy's bark, 
The mirrored crescent of the moon 

Swings on the waters weltering dark ; 
And in her solitary beam, 

Upon each hoar, storm-beaten height, 
The mica crystals flash and gleam, 

Spangling therocks with magic light — 
And when from o'er the dim-lit sea, 
Inflow those strains of mystery 
Which to night's quietude belong, 
As of some wandering elfin throng 
Tuning their spirit-lyres to song — 
Or when the wakeful breeze comes out 
The dusky aisles, and breathes about 



THE INLET. 101 

A moment, shaking sweet perfume 
From every honeyed bell and bloom, 
Startling the tall pine from its rest, 
And dreamy wood-bird in her nest, 
Or fanning the calm water's breast, 
Then stealing off into the shade, 
As if it were a thing afraid ! 

Still is the inlet wild and green 

As erst, though many years have been 

Their circuits since occurred the scene 

Herein detailed ! And when with heats 

Of summer glow yon city's streets, 

Their throngs are wont to seek the shades 

And zephyrs of its fragrant glades — 

And often do the wide old woods 

Ring in their deepest solitudes 

To youthful shout, and song, and glee, 

And viol's merry minstrelsy ; 

Speeds well the dance ! the trunks so tall — 

Rough columns of the festal hall — 

Sustain a broad and lofty roof 



102 HESTER. 

Of nature's greenest, loveliest woof, 
Fretted and arched, and sunbeam-proof ; 
The maiden weaves in lieu of wreath 

The drooping fern-plumes in her hair, 
And gay-hued flowers of scented breath, 

That spring to blossom everywhere 
Around. The forest's dream-like rest 
Hath charm to sooth the sorrowing breast, 
And make the worn and weary blest ! 

But let us thread the waste of years 
Back to the period of our tale ! — 
Around the point a boat appears ; 
'Tis Hubart's comrades, who with cheers 

Approach in answer to his hail, 
And take the three on board — o'erjoyed 
To find the lost one, and " employed" 
(Thus did their leader hint) " so well ! " 
Brief was the tale each had to tell ; 
And Hubart's we need not repeat. 
The crew had found a safe retreat 
Within a sheltering cave the while 



RETURNED HOME. 103 

The hurricane howled o'er the isle ; 
And since had searched the region o'er 

For their companion gone astray, 
Ridge, swamp, and glen, and winding shore I — 

Merry anon, the cry " Give way ! 
Bend to your oars ! " and o'er the tide 
They shot, while with a look of pride 
The helmsman glances at the line 
Of arrowy snow cleft through the brine, 
Astern ! Nor many minutes passed 
Before their grapnel was made fast 
At Isle Chebeague, upon the ledge. 
Old Carl stood at the water's edge, 
His thin, lank face perturbed and pale ; 
The o'erturned boat, the oar and sail, 
Bound with Otraska's wampum band, 
All torn, had drifted to the strand, 
And raised sad fears that 'neath the wave 
The maidens both had found a grave ! 

And now their safety was made plain, 
The fond old man could not restrain 



104 HESTER. 

The turbulence within ; his speech 

Eventuated in a gasp 
For breath — and scarcely could he reach 

The hand extended to his clasp 
By Hester, or could recognize 
Otraska in the scanty guise 
Her struggles with the waves had spared — 

So keenly do we feel the smart 

When from the wound is plucked the dart ! 
But each his gratulations shared 
Alike, when he had heard them tell 

Their 'scape ; and often would he say 

In after times, in earnest way, 

As if a strange thing to convey, 

He never knew until that day, 
He " loved that red-skin half so well ! " 



CHAPTER VII 



Again the matin glow of day 
Comes up the ocean. Hester wakes 
To hear the clattering windlass brakes 

On board the vessel, as they weigh 

Their anchor. Merrily they cheer 
Their labor ; and with measures long 

And loud, upon her listening ear 

Thus sweep the stanzas ol their song : — 

SONG . 

There she swings ! to your stations ! Once more 
We are heading away from the shore ! 
Sheet home every sail ! Finer breeze 
Never whitened its track o'er the seas ! 



106 HESTER. 

Chorus : — Tis a race with the sea gulls our 
trim clipper tries, 
Watch her sharp ! mind your luff ! we're away ! 

Huzza for the Peri ! huzza ! how she flies ! 
How she buries her bows in the spray ! 

Huzza ! huzza ! huzza ! huzza ! 
How she buries her bows in the spray ! 

'Neath our lee, reef and rock-bounded steep, 
Where the foam-crested billow doth sweep, 
They are fading, fast fading from sight ! 
Such a breeze is the sailor's delight, 

Chorus : — When the trim and the speed of 
his own bark he tries, &c. 

Though above us the dun tempest lower, 
Give us sea room, we'll laugh at its power ! 
Oft before we have weathered the gale — 
Let it come ! ne'er a cheek will grow pale ! 
Chorus : — 'Tis a race with the sea gulls our 
trim clipper tries, &c. 



SAILS LOOSED AGAIN. 107 

Ay ! the home of the true and the brave 
Are the wastes of the dark-rolling wave ! 
On the shore, men are slaves, but at sea 
Like the winds, like the waves, they are free ! 
Chorus : — Tis a race with the sea gulls our 
trim clipper tries, &c. 

When Hester came down to the door, 
And gazed around, far out at sea 
The ship with flowing sail and free, 

Dashed through the sparkling brine. She bore 

The gallant Hubart from the shore, 
Towards her port of destiny, 
At Richmond Isle — a few hours' sail, 
With such a jocund western gale; 
And not beyond a second day 
Would he on his return delay — 

This well she knew, for o'er and o'er, 

Ere he embarked it had been said. 

Why then that look of hopeless dread, 

Of anguish unalloyed and keen, 
With which she turned, at times, to mark 



108 HESTER. 

The cloudy canvas of the bark 
Fast fading 'midst the billowy sheen ? 

He knew the worst — had heard it all 
From her own lips — the seeming gall, 
Her father had so deeply nursed 
Towards him, as to one accursed 
For some strange crime of deathless fame, 
Which 'twere pollution even to name ! 
Or that, at least, such seemed his mood ; 
In vain the youth had scanned the past 
To solve the riddle — and at last, 
Firm in his sense of rectitude, 
He had determined to embrace 
The earliest hour, and face to face 
With her stern parent, to demand 
An explanation at his hand ! 
Thus had they parted, but the cheer 
His presence gave had gone, and fear 
Had taken its place, almost despair, 
A voice which seemed to say, Beware 
Thine evil day — the deadly sin ! 



THE INTERIOR LAKE. 109 

Seemed constantly to prompt within. 

At length the faithful Indian maid, 
Who had, with many a furtive look, 
Apart, beheld the storm that shook 
The bosom of her stricken friend, 
And not at loss to comprehend 

The cause, drew nearer, and essayed 

With soothing words, to break the spell ; 

" Otraska's white friend loves to dwell 

Beside the big sea-water's bounds ! 
She loves her island home, for here, 

Where the strong wave its war-whoops sounds, 
They say, is the Great Spirit near ; 

But there are other regions where 

Manito for his own doth care — 

Beyond the islands of the bay, 

Beyond the forests, far away 

O'er many streams, there is a sea 

Blue as the summer skies, and free 

As the swift spirit-winds that trace 

Their shadows on its ample face, 



110 HESTER. 

To which no white man hath come near. 

The woods around are dark and wide, 
And in their openings feed the deer, 

And on its broad and brimming tide, 
In morning's calm, the maskalunge 
And red trout love to leap and plunge. 

" My brethren dwell upon its shore 
In peace ; their swift canoes skim o'er 
Its waters — with their spears they take 
The fish at pleasure from the lake ; 
And even the youngest hunter's aim 
Supplies the wigwam-fires with game ! — 
Otraska hither came to sing 

The death chant o'er Cashura's grave 
In the deep forest, by the spring 

O'er which the dusky hemlocks wave ; 
Twelve moons have passed, her heart doth yearn 
To see her kindred — to return — 
Why not the pale faced Hester go ? — 

Her lover soon would be a chief 

Among the warriors ; and the grief 



SYMPATHY. Ill 

Which makes her forehead as the snow 
That gleams on Wampanhegan's peak, 

When round it winter tempests blow, 

Ere while would cease to blanch her cheek." 

The English maiden turned, and pressed 
Her dusk companion to her breast, 
And smiling, earnestly replied, 

" 'Twere baseness not to prize thy will 

To serve me, good Otraska ; still 
I may not choose thee for my guide, 
And leave my father desolate, — 
Abandoned to his lonely fate ! 
It haunts me as a deed of fear, 
The very thought ! And howsoe'er 
He seem exacting, well I know 

His sole impulsion is my good ; 
Oh ! could he but a semblance show 

Of cause for this imperious mood, 
It were no task for me, I trow, 
My own poor humor to forego, 

And wear the badge of maidenhood 



112 HESTER. 

To suit his pleasure. But the theme 
Makes me undutiful. Away, 
Base thoughts ! 

" And was it not to-day 
We were to seek Merconnig stream, 
To try your cunning as a leech 
On poor lame Natick, at the beach ? 
Let's to our boat — she'll sadly moan, 
If we the visit should postpone." 



The hush of eve again came on ; 

The friends (who had all day been gone) 

Returned, were resting at the door 

Beneath the ample stoop ; and near, 
Old Carl sat on the passage floor, 

Amidst a heap of fishing gear 
At work, while ever and again, 
He trolled the rollicking refrain 
Of some old song about the sea, 
Scarce conscious ; good dame Marjory, 
Her labors ended for the day, 



A DOMESTIC SCENE. 113 

Had taken her accustomed chair 

Beside the window ; on the stair 
With half-shut eyes the stag-hounds lay ; 

And spinning down the lambent air 
Its crystal threads, a gentle shower, 

Delicious with the balmy breath 

Of spruce, and fern, and fragrant heath, 
Enhanced the solace of the hour ! 

Hester aroused at length, addressed 
The wrapt old man (his roundelay 

Perchance had on her mind impressed 

The thought), " Good Carl ! come, put away 

Thy tackle, and rehearse some mime 
To us lorn maidens — some conceit 
Of high emprise, or knightly feat, 

Or what thou wilt — 'tis just the time 

For such — some tale of love or crime — 
Which thou so deftly canst repeat 

At wont." 

The wrapt old man's gray eye 

Grew brighter as he made reply, — 



114 HESTER. 

" Nay ! nay ! No minnesinger's skill 
To weave the gay romaunt at will, 
Have I, in sooth — I can but state 
In simple terms some freak of fate, 
If aught — and shall be recompensed 

If I in any wise beguile 

Attention." Pondering then awhile, 
He thus a rambling tale commenced : 



CHAPTER VIII. 



CAEL HILDEBEAND'S STOEY. 

My statements, lady, have to do 

With the adventures of a knight 
High in King Charles's favor, who, 
Through all his master's trials true, 
His sword in many a battle drew, 

'Till foiled at last at Wor'ster Fight ; 
I'll call him Rudolph — haply fame 
To his brave deeds another name 
Attached ; but be this as it may, 
What boots it ? Foiled in that affray 
Where old Noll's anthem-singing crew 
So fully, fatally o'erthrew 
The last hope of the Cavaliers ; 



116 HESTER. 

Thou, lady, wast then few of years, 
But none of England, young or old, 
Need of those fearful times be told ! — 

The battle-hurricane was o'er, 
Or sinking on the distant plain ; 

The young chief glanced around once more, 
He saw that further strife was vain, 

His last hope quenched in seas of gore, 
His bravest numbered with the slain, 

So fierce had sped the woful fight, 

And naught remained to him but flight ! 

But first he drew his crimsoned brand : 
" Thou never hast my trust betrayed," 

Said he, " and ne'er shall traitor's hand 
Dishonor thee, my faithful blade !" 

And broke the steel across his knee, 

And threw it on the gory lea — 

Then to his horse — " and now my steed 

Thy master's life hangs on thy speed ! 

A worthless life, and yet, may be, 



THE BANISHED CHIEF. 117 

Preserved, it shall not prove in vain !" 

So ran his brief soliloquy — 

He gave the charger spur and rein, 
And faded on the distant plain — 

Pursuit and clamor far behind, 

As well pursue the tempest wind ! 

But though upon the battle field 
Compelled thus signally to yield — 

And fly, with foemen night and day 

On every side, to bar his way, 

Did that good chieftain falter ? Nay ! 
That brow so pale, so calm, concealed 
A soul, to battle cark and care, 
To bid defiance to despair ! 
And e'en when 'scaped to foreign soil 

Thereafter, cramped with poverty, 
Eating the bread of sweat and toil, 

While on his broad, rich barony, 
His conquerors reveled with the spoil, 
As proud, as clear, his keen eye shone 
As when he battled for a throne ! 



118 HESTER. 

Still plotted he, and toiled, and planned ! 

And once more in disguise of port 
And garb, he trod his native land ; 

He stood in his own castle court, 
He saw the banners stream abroad 

Of strangers on its battlements, 
The staid fanatics that kept ward, 

With that stern rigor which relents 
In naught, on barbican and tower — 
He marked the strange usurper's power ! 

And thence the royal camp to win, 
He turned his course across the wave ; 

In place of martial strife, and din, 

And banner flout, and squadron brave, 

In panoply of war, around 

His liege's cantonment, he found 

The prince in lures of pleasaunce drowned — 

'Midst masks and mimes — the flattered lord 

Of heroes of the festive board, 

With only sneers and gibes for those 

Who dared in anywise oppose 



EXILE. 119 

His mood. Home, station, seas of gore, 
All spent for this ! His hope was o'er ! 

Thenceforth the exiled knight became 

A wanderer in barbaric lands — 
The fierce realms of primeval fame — 

Crossed trackless wastes of desert sands, 
Scaled mountain steeps, trod arid wolds,* 

With throbbing blood and weary feet, 

Where verdure shuns the burning heat, 
And penetrated to the holds 
Of savage rule, — vast, crowded marts, 
Whose aspects, modes of life, strange arts,' 
Whose yqyj names even are scarce known 
To records of our tamer zone ! 
Cross' d continents from sea to sea, 

And lonely seas from coast to coast, 
Now from disease and death to flee, 

Anon as fancy lured him most ; 
Here making sojourn months to pore, 

With pagan priest in secret cell, 
O'er weird rites and forbidden lore ; 



120 HESTER. 

Thence going forth perchance to dwell 

'Midst mighty ruins lorn and gray 

With ages, whose historic day 
And date were haply lost to man 
Ere record of our race began ! — 

Here feted with untold display 

Of pomp barbaric, and anon 

Contemned and shunned, and waste and wan 

With famine. 

Thus he wandered on, 

Till on a summer day's decline, 

While on his way to Palestine 

(Or otherwhere, as whim or fate 
Might lead), from Meroe, and the grand 
Old ruins of that wonder-land 
Along the Nile, he sought the strand, 

And entered ancient Cairo's gate — 

And wending leisurely along 

The narrow streets, uncertain where 
To seek for needed rest and fare, 

He came upon a hurrying throng- 
That seemed to rivet every eye ; 



THE ENCOUNTER. 121 

He turned aside, uncaring why, 
When, with a sudden piercing cry, 
A Jewish girl, robed as a bride, 
Rushed from the concourse to his side, 
And wildly importuned his aid ! 
With speed of thought his trusty blade 
Was from his belt and ready barred, 
To shield her from the Turkish guard, 
Who followed her. 

" How ! Christian cur ! " 

Exclaimed the Moslem, blanched with rage, 
" Darest balk me ? Sheath thy cimeter, 

Or by my beard ! thy heritage 
Of life is short ! Delayest thou still ? 
Darest tamper with the pasha's will ? " — 
For firm in purpose, not a word 
The pilgrim deigned, nor muscle stirred — 
" Then Allah help me ! take the meed, 
Strange Nazarene, of thy misdeed ! " 
With that, he hurled his glittering steel 
Full at the Briton's breast ■ — his zeal 
Had well nigh cost him dear — the brand 



122 HESTER. 

No whit less promptly flew his hand, 
And slightly wounded dropped his arm ! — 
u Go, Moslem ! were I so inclined, 
Thy life were cheap ; but in my mind 
There springs no wish to do thee harm ! " 
So spake our knight — then to his charge, 
" And we, too, damsel, must away, 
Or else these hounds thus set at bay 
Will scarcely leave us long at large ! " 

" Alas ! " her sorrowing reply, 

While from her face she raised the vail, 
And fixed a full, dark, beaming eye 

(Whose lustrous fervor made him pale 
With something like a sense of fear) 
Upon him, " Fly ! and leave me here — 
instantly ! The pasha's hate 

Will know no mercy ! — Wo is me ! 
'Twere better meet a cruel fate, 

Than thus endanger such as thee ! " 

" Nay ! " quoth the Briton, as he threw 



AN ESCAPE. 123 

His pilgrim cloak of sober hue 
Upon her snowy vestments — " Nay ! 

Such shrewd exploit would hardly chime 
With courtesy ; but lead the way — 

When thou art safe, there will be time 
For me to think of foes or flight — 
And trust me but I find some plight 
To balk this potent Moslem's spite ! " 

At first sign of a will to brave 
The mandates of their ruler's slave 
(Almost unheard of deed of fear, 

For which death only would atone, 
And might involve all who were near), 

The timid populace had flown 
The streets, and every portal closed, 
And lattice drawn, — so none opposed 
Their passage ; and they hurried on, 
Up, down, athwart. But there was one, 

An old man in uncouth attire, 

As fleet of foot — the maiden's sire, — 
Who had seen all, and who anon 



124 HESTER. 

Their steps arrested, at the port 

Of a huge Saracenic pile ; 
They entered on its spacious court — 

" Here can we safely rest awhile," 
The old man spake — " and if our guise 
Is pierced, 'twill be by friendly eyes. 
'Tis true, we've little time to lose, 
But 'twere a caitiff's way to choose 
A later hour, a calmer mood, 
To speak our thanks " — 

" Nay, by the rood 1 " 
Impulsively the knight demurred, 

" I'll none of this ! I but beguiled 
A moment's leisure — ne'er a word ! " 
The gray-beard would not be deterred — 

" She is my only daughter — Child ! 
My Desiree, canst not express 
A word, a look, of thankfulness 
To thy preserver ! — thus o'ercome ! — 
Excess of thanks doth make her dumb, 
I wonder not. — Our tale's soon told ; 
The pasha sought her — proffered gold ! 



THE JEW. 125 

I spurned him and his minions — (true, 

'Twere virtue to oppress the Jew, 

And such I am !) — but scarcely spurned 

Before the myrmidons returned, 

And tore her shrieking from my breast, 

When thy arm — but thou know'st the rest. 

If wealth thou lackest, ample store, 

Thy coffers shall be running o'er ! 

To brave upon the public street 

The pasha's slaves ! Unheard of feat, 

By Aaron's beard ! And swift and keen 

Would vengeance follow it, I ween, 

Should adverse fate — Heaven balk the hour ! — 

Hereafter place thee in his power ! 

But now pass out among the throng ; 

This dervish cloak," — and here he spread 
His own guise o'er the Briton's head, 
And in it wrapped his form, " will be — 
For once thanks to their bigotry ! — 
Protection from all harm, for thee ; 

'Twere braving fortune to prolong 

Our tarry here. — Meet me again 

9 



126 



HESTEE 



Beyond the Nile, on Gizeh's plain, 
Beneath the western pyramid, 
To-night — soon as the moon is hid ; 
There is emprise on foot, brave Frank, 
For such as thee ; and station, rank, 
Are in my gift ! — No place is here 

For explanation, were there time ! — 

Dost thou approve ?" 

" Impute it crime 
In me if I fail to appear !" 
Was the rejoinder. " Then adieu ! 

Remember — 'mong the date palm trees, 
When sinks the moon !" enjoined the Jew — 

" The pyramid of Cephrenes ! — 
Go now 1" But fails he to comply, 
Scarce consciously — the full, dark eye 
Of the Jew's daughter, as a spell 

Controlled him ! Thrice he turned away, 

Still at the portal to delay, 
Ere he pronounced the word, Farewell ! 



CHAPTER IX. 



The night had fallen serene and bland, 
The crescent moon, shorn of her rays, 
Seemed floating on the violet haze 
That rose above the desert's sand ; 
Whilst higher, in a sky as clear 
As though there were no atmosphere, 
The earnest stars seemed thronging near, 
And all adrift — so strangely bright 
Were the pulsations of their light !— 
True to his trust, the pilgrim knight 
Stood in the palm grove, where the Jew 
Had craved the midnight interview ; 
But all was still — he was alone 
Amidst those mountain piles of stone, 
The pyramids — the mightiest scene 



128 HESTER. 

Of man's power earth hath ever known, 

Or, happily, shall ever know ; 

Solemn, mysterious, serene, 
Among the stars their sharp heights shone, 

Their bases unknown fathoms low — 
Defiant of the shocks of Time ; 

When earth shall meet with overthrow, 
Then will those monuments sublime ! 

He lay down in the solitude 
Upon the sands, with awe imbued — 
'Till sleep, long kept at bay, subdued 
His limbs, but not his spirit quelled ; 
In broken visions he beheld 
The kings, the demi-gods of eld, 
Each issuing from his massy tomb 
With stately step and brow of gloom ; 
The mighty pharaohs, — Rameses, 
Suiphis, Cheops, and Cephrenes, 

Dark Moeris, Thoph, 

And Amunoph, 
Sethos and Soe — and with the rest 



DUTY INDICATED. 129 

That stern priest-king who so oppressed, 
Moved thereto by their God, the kin 
Of Joseph, swift to purpose sin ! 
But haply his abode of years 
Twice thousands in the immortal spheres, 
Had taught him 'twas no idle freak 
For even kings and priests to wreak 
Their bilious humors on the weak — 
That love makes stronger ties than fear ! 
With trailing garments came he near, 
And pointing eastwise towards the land 
Of Palestina, muttered low, 
They still the wine press tread of wo ! 
The fields are ripe — thrust in thy hand 
And reap ! and thereat swayed his wand 
Above the sleeper. 

At the stroke 
The Briton suddenly awoke ! 
Was it a shade that seemed to glide 
So swift but noiseless from his side, 
And dimly flit from palm to palm, 
Or some marauder plotting harm ? 



130 HESTER. 

He grasped his sword, and gazed around ; 
But nothing stirred. The crescent moon 
Had sunk, the night had passed its noon 
An hour or more — where was the Jew ? 
Had ill befallen him ? was he true ? — 

Far to the east, the river wound 
Dim and majestic, but in vain, 
He scanned the dim-lit, arid plain ; 
No hurrying pilgrim met his eye, 
And save, at times, a jackal's cry, 

Upon the silence broke no sound, 

Unless it were a single bird 

Among the palms, — a soft, sad note, 
That from the blue heavens seemed to float ! 

It was the same he oft had heard 
In his far home-land, when a boy, 
And life was as a round of joy ; 

Alas ! what marvel that it stirred 

His thought to sad and bitter strife ? 

That boyhood's comrades, where were they ? 
His fond, proud mother ? — passed away ; 
His brothers ? — fallen in the raele*e 



THE RANGE OF THOUGHT. 131 

Of battle — and his youthful wife, 
Whose love he valued as his life, 
Perhaps estranged, himself as dead 

Accounted — and the throbbing breast 
Which oft had soothed his weary head, 

In rapture to another's press'd! 
Shuddering at such portent, he sank 
Again upon the arid bank, 
For once despairing at his fate — 
Mute, hopeless, homeless, desolate ! 

Thought! thought! how tortuous, how strange, 

How wide and wonderful thy range ! 

A simple bird thus start a train 

To end in madness of the brain ! 

But so it is ; a sound — a strain 

Of long forgotten harmony, 

A touch, the flavor of a fruit, 

The lonely ruin, gray and mute, 
The fragrance of a flower, the bee 
That bends the clover on the lea, 
The murmur of a forest-spring, 



132 HESTER. 

A spider's network — anything 
To which the memory can cling, 
May prompt to musings to control 
The deepest mysteries of the soul, 
And lead to acts to sway the fates 
Of peoples and of potentates ! 

But to the lone knight — on the sands 
He lies, his face plunged in his hands, 
Silent and motionless as dead, 
Yet not alone ! With stealthy tread, 
A file of Moslem guards have crept 
Towards him, deeming that he slept, 
And deftly from its scabbard drawn 

His cimeter ; and now grown brave, 
They rally him, " Up ! Christian-born ! 

Ho ! rouse thee from thy sleep ! We crave 
Thy company — our liege awaits 
Thy coming at his palace gates, 
Impatient of an interview ! " 

But at their touch, at once renerved, 

The Briton from their grapple swerved, 



THE CAPTURE. 133 

And for his sword-hilt grasped — that gone, 
What could he single-handed do ? 

Forth others rushed — a score to one — 

From 'midst the palms. 

" Enough ! lead on ! ' 5 
He spake, " unless, most thoughtful Turk, 
It suits thee here to do thy work ! " 
" Nay, valiant Frank, thy taunts forbear ! 
'Twere death to us to harm a hair 
Of thine — such is the pasha's charge, 
Else had we left thy sword at large ! " — 

The aga made no more reply, 

But hurrying to a ruin nigh 

At hand, from 'midst a troop of steeds, 
Chose one with gorgeous trappings clad, 
As 'twere an emeer's, which they bade 

Him mount ; and then not swifter speeds 

The eagle stooping on his prey 

Down from his eyrie-cliff, than they 

Across the dusk and broken plain, 
While mute as death their serried ranks ; 



134 HESTER. 

Nor did they turn, nor tighten rein, 
Till hard upon the river's banks ; 
And here, the pasha's gilded barge 
In wait, at once received their charge, 
And instantly urged by a score 
Of brawny Nubians, darted o'er 
The dark stream, towards the hither shore ; 
Yet not until his trusty sword 
Had been into his hands restored ! — 
Through all these measures not a word 
Had passed on either hand ! — What next ? 
The knight, although in sooth perplexed, 
Asked not ! — Suffice it, ere an hour 

Of various incident had flown, 
Mured in the pasha's donjon tower, 
He trod a dreary cell alone. 

He glanced abstractedly around ; 

The vault was large, but illy aired, 
Or if above, or under ground, 

He knew not, and but little cared 
In truth ! — A solitary ]amp 



THE DUNGEON. 135 

Illumed the vapors dim and damp — 
Which stirred, appeared to writhe and twist 
In iris hues, a living mist 
As 'twere — and gave faint light to read 
The records of full many a deed, 

Upon the walls, of crime, despair, 

By other victims written there. 
But even these tales won little heed ; 
For overworn, he threw his head 
At once upon the wretched bed, 
The only fixture of the cell, 
And slept, how long he could not tell : 
When he awoke it was to see 

A Moslem bending o'er his couch, 

Whose speech made needless to avouch — 
If other need were — his degree. 

" Brave Frank — nay ! start not thus, nor lower 

Thy brow, I purpose thee no ill ; 
'Tis true I have thee in my power, 

But 'tis that, having learnt thy skill 
In arms — aside from thy affray 



136 HESTER. 

With my chief aga yesterday — 
It boots not how ; I might advise 
With thee, upon a grave emprise ! 

We need not banter mysteries — hear ! 

There is a plot to circumvent 
My rule in Petra and Judea 

On foot, — 'tis said of wide extent ; 
So much the better — just so wide 
Shall be my vengeance satisfied ! 
So Allah aid ! But to the tale ! 
Along El Ghor and in the vale 
Of rugged Mousa camped, a band 

Of caitiffs, drawn from every clime, 
And led by foreign chiefs, have planned 
To seize upon your holy land ! 

In heedless ease they bide their time 
For action, — Greek, Jew, Nazarene, 
Apostates of the Aloween 
And other desert tribes, a throng 
111 armed, but in position strong, 
Ripe for the sword — fit subjects they 



A PROPOSAL. 137 

To keep my troops in sabre-play ! — 

The leaders of these paynim ranks 
Would ape the warfare of the Franks, 
In plotting this accursed raid — 
Hence, Christian, have I sought thy aid ; 
Take thrice a thousand horse, which wait 
Thy nod, beyond the eastern gate, 
And while these robbers feel secure 
From danger nigh, down on them pour, 
Kesistless as the fatal fire 

That blazes in the fierce siroc ! 
Grind them to dust ! rack and consume 
Their cohorts with an utter doom ! — 

Let not a soul escape the shock ! 
Then name what thou wouldst most desire, — 
Power, wealth, slaves — ay ! e'en though it were 
The matchless wench thy cimeter 
But yesterday bore from my hand ; 
And doth she bide in all my land, 
I swear it by the sacred shrine 
Of Mecca, that she shall be thine ! " 



138 HESTER. 

" Pasha ! " at length the knight replied, 
" For country, home, and fireside, 

I've plunged into the deadly strife, 

And often periled limb and life ; 

Nay, more ! I've laid my lance in rest, 
And sometimes stemmed the battle tide 

To aid the wo-worn and oppressed. — 
But solely not for wealth or fame, 
Have I defied war's fearful game ; 
Nor will my Christian creed allow, 
Barred nothing else, to do so now ! " 

" Creed ! Briton ! " quoth the Moslem, " creed ! " 
Blanched with the effort to surmount 
His passion — " by the holy fount 

Of Zemzem ! but thou jeer'st indeed ! 

'Tis something men profess to heed, 

When suits their aims ! But, proud knight, spare 

Thy jests — I pray thee to forbear ! 
'Twere well in season yon should learn 

That chafed my will has little care 
For what may follow ; ere you spurn 



BITTER MUSINGS. 139 

My proffer, think awhile at least ; 
Leave creeds to mufti, scribe, and priest, 
So Allah help thee ! But I fear 

My own quick humor, and will hence 

To the divan, that in suspense 
Awaits me, but will seek you here 
Again ere day-dawn ! Ponder well ! " 
And with these words he left the cell, 

His eye dilating with the ire 
He strove, but vainly strove to quell — 

The smothered volcan's seething fire. 

" Think ! think awhile ! — well, I have thought ! 

Assist thee to exterminate 

The brave men whom thy fear and hate 
Have goaded, till almost distraught, 
They rush to battle in their might, 
And shake thy empire ! " mused the knight ; — 

" To this, perchance, referred the Jew — 

May Heaven forsake me if I do ! 
What then ? Rack! torture's vengeful spite ! 
The doom of death, uncertain, slow, 



140 - HE S TEE. 

The craven gloats o'er ! Be it so ! — 
By Heaven ! could I but strike a blow 
For these bold foes, right cheerfully 
Would my good sword its scabbard flee — 
Even though the melee laid me low ! ' ? 



CHAPTER X. 



Left to himself, the Briton paced 

With hurried strides his dungeon. Fate 
Had certes never found him placed 

Before in quite so dubious strait — 
On all sides so completely bound 
With toils. But list ! that stealthy sound, 
As of approaching feet — a tread 
So light he scarce knew whence it sped, 
Or if at all ! He grasped his sword, 
And with his straining eyes explored 

The granite walls on every side, 
As best he might ; but in the gloom 
His flickering lamp fails to illume, 

If harm lurked near him, none espied ! 
10 



142 HESTER. 

The massive dungeon door, ajar, 
Oped on a narrow passage way 
Barred at the end ; at length a ray 
Of light, scarce brighter than the star 
Of eve sends from her throne afar, 

Crept through the opening as astray ! — 
And can it be he sees aright, 
A maiden nearing with the light ? 
He shades his eyes — " That regal plight ! 

That form — ■ by heavens ! — 'tis De*sire*e ! " 
He muttered — "or some elf, with eyes 
As dark and large, and in her guise ! " 
Then o'er him stole a deathly fear — 
If the Jew's daughter, how come here ? 
For him, perchance, the sacrifice ! — 
But whether mortal maid or elf 

From fairy realm, she becks him on, 
■Springs up the circling stair — is gone — » 
Ere he can well compose himself 
To follow ! — Through the narrow vault 
He gropes his way, but soon at fault, 
Nor door, nor passage can he find — 



DELIVERANCE. 143 

As in a tomb mured, all is blind ! 

He turned him slowly to retreat 
Towards the cell, when from his feet 
A door swung up, and face to face 
He with the comely Jewess stood ! — 
He seized her hand, but changed his mood ; 
" How Desiree ! in such a place ! " — 
" Hush ! hush ! " she whispered — " not a word, 
Or all is lost ! Methought I heard 
The guard's voice ! " Then, light as a bird, 
She darted down the pillared aisle, 
Before them lost in gloom, the while 
Her finger raised — (whereon a gem, 
Worthy a prince's diadem, 
Flashed back her cresset's flickering flame, 
And made it seem more dull and tame 
By contrast) — raised as to imply 
The need of silence — danger nigh ! 

The knight, in doubt but that he dreamed, 
So like enchantment all this seemed, 



144 HESTEE. 

Up, down, athwart, still followed on, 

Through mirrored hall, and wide salon 

And chamber, whose expansive height, 
Quaint tracery, and rich emboss, 

And gilded equipage, the light 

But faintly showed — up, down, across — 

And never seemed in doubt his guide. 
At length they reached a pillared court 

Or vestibule. She drew aside 
A hidden wicket in the port, 

And gratefully inflowed the breeze 
Of midnight from the garden bowers, 
Rife with the dewy breath of flowers 

And odorous shrubs ; and through the trees 
His eye caught here and there the play 
Of fountains, many a jet and spray, 
That changed and flickered in the ray 

Of the young moon. 

But not for these 

Did D£sire*e her flight abate, 

But on, through winding pathway strove, 
And blossoming copse, and palmy grove, 






DELIVERANCE. 145 

Until, arriving at a gate 
That opened on the brimming Nile, 
She turned, with triumph in her smile, 
And whispered, " All is safe as planned 
Thus far ! — a shallop waits well manned 
Without, to bear thee up the strand 
To Bissateen, where arms, and steed, 
And friends await, who little heed 
El Haroun's frowns ! 

" Nor will thy flight 
Hence in the watches of the night 
Suspicion or pursuit excite ; 
For often, on some secret charge, 
At this lone hour the pasha's barge 
Thus leaves the shore — alas ! 'tis said, 
At times on mission foul and dread, 
Whose import some faint, smothered scream. 
Or vailed corse floating down the stream, 
Is but too ready to betray 
Where none dare question ! 

" But away ! 
The boat waits ! Yet a moment stay ! 



146 HESTEE. 

My presence here needs be explained ; — 
Not favor bought by honor stained 
Leaves me at large. One of our race, 
A. kinsman true, is high in place, 
Within the palace walls. In sooth, 
The earlier portion of my youth 
Was spent here in his charge ; and when 
My rescue from El Haroun's men 
By thee, called forth the despot's spies, 
Like locust swarms, of every guise, 
So none might know, or whom to fear, 
Or whom to trust, they sent me here 
In secret, to my kinsman's care — 

The only hope left — to evade 
The tiger in the tiger's lair ! — 

Thus far all's well. Had aught betrayed 
Our stratagem, the fatal hour 
That saw me in the pasha's power, 
This trusty friend " (and here she drew 
A poniard's jeweled hilt to view, 
From 'neath her vest), " Heaven give me grace! 
Had saved me from his loathed embrace ! " 



DELIVERANCE. 147 

The knight in admiration wild 

Was lost — " Strange sire and stranger child ! " 

He muttered — " such heroic rede 

To plan, such nerve of steel to do 
And dare, well may the pasha heed ! " 

And then, scarce wittingly, he drew 
Towards his lips her snowy hand — 
The while the other arm had spanned 
Her slender form in its embrace — 
And gazed upon her fair, round face, 

The which the glances of the moon 
Invested with a lofty grace, 

Almost seraphic — certes, boon 
Bestowed unneeded, for before 
'Twas one man might almost adore ! 

" The boat waits ! " — presently he spake, 
" But waits for us ! Thou wouldst go back 
To what ? Dishonor, or the sack, 

Or bow-string ! — Nay ! nay ! for my sake, 

Sweet Desiree, if not thine own, 

Fly hence ! — I will not go alone ! 



148 HESTER. 

It were to me unknightly stain ; " — 

u Yet it behooves that I remain, 

Or all is lost ; " was the reply — 
" Our plans are not complete — but hark ! 

That shout ! 'tis not the muezzin's cry ! 
It bodes no good — haste and embark ! " 
And with an air of quick alarm, 
Withdrawing gently from his arm, 
She stood attent, like one some charm 

Doth fix, then turned and whispered, " Fly ! 

'Twere fatal to prolong our talk — 

Farewell ! " and darted up the walk ; 

But turned a moment ere from view 
Her form was hid, and waved her hand 

In token of a last adieu, 

And disappeared. 

The knight awhile 

Stood gazing up the dusky aisle, 

Then with a sigh, turned to the strand ; 

And soon embarked, with muffled oar, 

Was fast receding from the shore, 

His inmost heart-springs in a whirl 



MORALIZING. 149 

Of wild commotion — present lot 
Of peril all unrecked — and not 
A thought save for the Jewish girl ! 

Dost think perfection dwells with men ? — 
Oh, there are fearful moments, when 
Temptation hath too strong a sway ! 
When syren-like she lures us on, 
Till strength and principle are gone ! 
And darkness seems almost like day ! 
Not this alone to passion's slave, 
For often are the good and brave, 
And strong in purpose, first to yield, 
And once upon the sinuous track 
Press madly forward, nor turn back 
Until too late — their doom is sealed ! 

Nay, not perfection on the earth, 
With all its passions, bickerings, dearth 
Of heart and soul ! We read of saints 

Sometimes, in priestly homily, 
Sin-proof, steel-mailed in the restraints 



150 HESTER. 

Of resolution ; if such be, 
And therefrom heaven is to derive 

Its shining spirit-tenantry, 
'Twill scarcely be a teeming hive — 

That land of immortality ! 
'Tis true, albeit, there may be those 

Who walk with footing firm and sure, 
Whatever passion may disclose 

Its bait, or syren may allure ; 
But here were reason to suppose 
They ne'er had passions to repress — 
Or had destroyed them through excess ! 

And let the sophist, proudly meek 

And self-reliant, who is prone 
O'er follies of the godless weak, 

Complacently to shrug and groan, 

And deprecate, but be accursed 

With the fierce, seething, scorching thirst 

Of love misplaced, or counted crime ; 

Or other passion-thrall whose zest 

Is contraband, and stand the test 



MORALIZING. 151 



Unscathed, and it might be confessed 
He were a monument sublime 
Of strength — howe'er, of slight avail 
To " point the moral " of our tale ! 



The noblest sometimes fall — they tell 

That angels pure and lovely fell 

From heaven ! And all have need to screen 

Themselves, at times, behind the prayer 
Of him, the lowly Nazarene, 

Father, from this temptation spare ! 

Leave not the unwary to the snare ! — 
'Tis circumstance that most controls 
Careers ! Still there are sterling souls 
And saintly ! Strong of trust in man, 
Earth, Heaven — that all things are the plan 
Of Wisdom, and unswerving tend 
To some high purpose, glorious end — 
True in their aims, they self discard, 

And whatsoe'er they find to do 

For weal of humankind, pursue 
With all their might — prince, warrior, bard, 



152 HESTER. 

Priest, statesman, peasant, serf — the few 
In every station, every sphere 
Of life, run nobly their career ! — 
And deem ye not our pilgrim-knight, 
Though turned aside, abandoned quite ! 



CHAPTER XI 



Meanwhile the Briton's shallop speeds 

Towards the strand at Bissateen, 
With oar that scarcely stirs the reeds 

Upon the marge, or breaks the sheen 
That mantles o'er the brimming tide 
From the low moon, so deftly plied ; 
And ere an hour he reached the shore. 
Here waited his approach a score 
Of horsemen, who with welcome brief 
But cordial, hailed him as their chief. 
Few words sufficed to tell their aim — 
And scarcely need the record say 
They were of those who 'gainst the sway 
Of Haroun planned revolt — the same 
Whereof some days before the Jew 



154 HESTER. 

Had hinted at. Without ado, 
The knight was ready to accede 
To their appeal to take the lead 
In the emprise. — 

" To horse ! away ! " 
At once the order ; and when day 
Broke o'er the desert with its smile, 
Long leagues behind them was the Nile — 
And on the wide and waste expanse 
Of sand, no object met the glance, 
Save here and there, a rock, a mound, 

That rose from out the level sea, 

In bald, abject sterility ; 
While silence breathlessly profound 
Clung to the shriveled sands, and bound 
In its tense toils the atmosphere, — 
A silence such as man in fear 
May show when death is lurking near ; 
And even the clank and jangle made 
By the advancing cavalcade, 
No echo from its haunt betrayed, 
But made the elemental sleep 



THE DESERT. 155 

By contrast, seem more hushed and deep ! 

Southward and eastward, on they hied 
By trails known only to their guide 
(A chieftain of the Aloween), 
Where man, it seemed, had rarely been ; 
But towards decline of day the scene 
Became more broken — and erewhile 
They entered on a rough defile, 
'Midst beetling precipices, riven, 

And rent, and torn, in every shape, 
As if an earthquake once had striven 

'Neath their foundations, and agape 
Had left the mountain's granite heart, 

And hence the deep and tortuous pass. 

And not an herb, nor blade of grass, 
Nor moss, did sign of life impart 
To the gaunt ledges — while a gale 

Born out among the crags that scowled 

Beyond, above, unceasing howled 
Along its shaggy walls a tale 
Of desolation, which so dread, 



156 HESTER. 

Made the heart desert. 

Through the bed 

Of this deep gorge, with wary tread 

And slow, the horsemen picked their way — 

Down, down, 'midst rocks where scarce the day 

Could look, so cavernous and lone ; 
And but a narrow strip of sky, 
Far up the grim gap, caught the eye, 

In which, as during midnight, shone 

The stars ! But still they onward strove — 
And still the more contracted grew 
The chasm, till wholly from their view 
The sky was hid, and in the gloom, 
From side to side, there scarce was room 

Forward in single line to move ; 

Yet on they clomb. 

Once and again, 

The knight suspicious tightened rein, 

And felt his sabre ; but the shouts, 
Prolonged and cheerful, of their guide, 

To follow on, dispersed his doubts. 
And then the path became more wide, 



A MOUNTAIN RAVINE. 157 

And faint the upper crags were dyed 
With sinking day's empurpled beam ; 

Which, gradually as they advanced, 

Upon the nearer angles glanced, 
Till through a craggy arch the gleam 
Burst full upon their dazzled sight ; 
And dashing to the front, the knight 
Could not restrain his wild delight 
From shouts of rapture at the change 
Of scene, so total and so strange ! — 

They stood within a deep ravine, 

Confined by cliffs on every side, 

Of dizzy altitude, and dyed 
With colors rivaling the sheen 
Of autumn sunset skies — while green, 
Broad-boughed, and knurled with rampant life, 

The tamarisk and palm upsprung 
About their bases, as in strife 

To climb the mural steeps, and clung 

To every fissure ; flowering broom, 

With petals white as winter snow, 
11 



158 HESTER. 

And redolent of rare perfume, 

Disputed daringly below, 

With the loose rocks for room to grow ! 
And from a rough, encumbered nook, 

'Midst straggling tufts of asphodel, 
Gushed up a spring, to form a brook, 

That dancing down the hollow, fell, 

With tinkle like a silver bell, 
Into a natural basin — clear 
As is the desert's atmosphere — 
Thence through a rent crag found its way 

Adown a darksome cavity, 
Where, shattered into diamond spray, 

Among the rifts and coarse debris, 
'Twas lost, no more to come to day ! 

But that which made the glen's chief charm, 
Contrasted with the crags around, 
Was a broad plat of grassy ground 

Encircled by the brooklet's arm 

(As lover would embrace his queen), 

With here and there a stately palm, 



A MOUNTAIN RAVINE. 159 

Upspringing from its emerald green, 
And wooing to its shade. And here, 
Secure from even a thought of fear 
Or harm, a dusky throng (with steed 
And camel all astroll, to feed 
At will) were scattered in repose ; 
But as the knight drew near, arose, 
And round him with wild welcome pressed, 
As though he were a looked-for guest. 

" Here 'tis our wont to hold divan ; " 

So spake the veteran Aloween, 

Who o'er the waste their guide had been — 
" Here fearless we may counsel, plan, 
Or seek repose, as suits our mind, 
And none molest ! Not even the wind, 
Praise Allah ! our retreat can find, 
Unless it stoops from heaven, whose blue 
Can scarce be otherwise than true." 

A slight repast — a half hour given 
To counsel, and the motley throng, 



1G0 HESTER. 

With nothing bnt the cope of heaven 

To cover them, reposed among 
The shrubs and mossy knolls — for there, 
In that dry clime, the midnight air 
Distills no pestilential dew. 
The knight, too, slept, but neither few 

Nor strange the phantasms of his brain ! 

Once more he tramped the burning plain — 
He stemmed the Nile's broad stream — anew 
In Desiree's behalf he drew 
His steel — then was the dungeon's guest — 

Anon that bosom's panting snow, 

Those full, black eyes, with love aglow, 
Bent o'er him, and with breath suppressed, 

Her trembling lips just touched his own — 
Touched, quick as thought from his unrest 

To rouse him ! 

Had the vision flown ? 
And was it but some elf of night 
That seemed to glide along the height 
Above the scattered palms ? Amazed 
He rubbed his wildered eyes, and gazed 



A VISION. 161 

Again along the shadowy hill, 
But all was dusk and moveless ! Still 
He felt in every vein the thrill 
Of those warm lips ! It scarce could be 
A dream — so like reality ! — 
He listened breathless — all around 
Was slumberous quietude, profound, 
Save the tired camel's long-drawn sigh, 
And once, and then again, the cry 
As of some bird or beast of prey, 
Chiding the echoes far away ; 
Not even a watchman moved his spear — 
With something like a throb of fear, 
Perplexed, half dubious that he dreamed, 
He threw himself upon his bed 
Of moss, and slept till morning's red 
Along the mountain summits gleamed ! 

In the wild wady of El Ghor, 
Already had the blast of war 
Been blown, and thither to the strife 
Our cohort by forced marches press ed ; 



162 HESTER. 

And when the knight roused from his rest, 
He found on all sides movements rife 
For speedy march. Without delay 
From him the troop was under way, 
And passing through the chasm, again 
Moved eastward o'er the sterile plain. 



CHAPTER XII. 



Slight, gentle mistress ! slight, I ween, 

Thy pleasaunce, were I to recount 
The features of each arid scene 

Of their long march o'er rock, and mount, 
And sandy gulch, where heat or strife 

Of elements quench every sign 
Of habitant, or herbal life ; 

Until at length, at day's decline, 
Descending through a rugged vale, 

They stood upon the lonely strand 
Of the Red Sea — and here a sail 

In wait, received the Briton's band — 
The few who met him at the Nile — 
While, camping in the rough defile, 
Their comrades tarried for the night, 



164 HESTER. 

Intending with the earliest light 
To move towards their trysting post 
By trails which followed up the coast. 

The bark put off ; dimly and vast 
The far waves stretched, — away, away, 
On either hand, dull, sluggish, gray, 
The sky with leaden mists o'ercast — 
And not a sail afar or near, 
Or speck, the lone expanse to cheer — 
And soon the dun hills in the rear 
Were lost in night. — On, on she flew, 
And when the gray of morning grew 
Again to day, bold Sinai's steep 
Loomed far beyond the dashing deep 
Upon the left — its summit vailed 
In volumed mists and wreathing rack 
Inwove with lightning shreds, and black 
As that dread tempest which assailed 
Its crags, when on its summit lone, 
The prophet from supernal hands 
Keceived in charge those leaves of stone 



THE RED SEA. 165 

Engraven with the ten commands ! — 

Yet strong and fair the wind still blew, 

And onward in her far career 
The little speronara flew, 

Impetuous as the hunted deer — 
Her cheek pressed to the hissing surge, 
Which, plunging round her, seemed to urge 
To madder speed ! 

it is brave, 
Is glorious, thus to ride the wave, 
Where all is spurred to tensest life, 
And 'twixt the sea and ship seems strife 
For mastery — when ne'er a need 

From convoy dull, or thronging sail 
Around, compels to slacken speed, 

Or tack and truckle to the gale ! 
And here the wide sea was their own ! 

No mart along the rock-bound strand 
Sent forth its fleets, but all was lone, 

Coast, mountain, wave — on every hand — 
Companionless, mysterious, drear, 



166 HESTER. 

As if man had been swept away 

From earth — or ne'er had been, — and they 
Were wanderers from some other sphere, 
Attracted hither to explore 
Scenes never visited before ! 

Tims onward hour by hour they dashed, 

Till, struggling through the rent clouds, flashed 

Portentously the sun's low rays, 

Turning the wild and yeasty maze 

Of waves as 'twere to blood ! Then fell 

The wind, and silent calm ensued, 
Save that at times there seemed to swell 

From the far inland solitude 
A chime as of some vesper bell ! — 
Familiar to the Briton's ear 
It seemed — like that he used to hear 
From the gray church tower, near the home 

Of youth ; but convent, church, or chime, 
Whence those sweet, mournful sounds could 
come, 

Existed not in all that clime ! — 



PRECURSORS OF STORM. 167 

At times the bended ear would doubt 

It heard at all, so wavering, low, 
And fine-drawn did the sound creep out ; 

Then it went whirling to and fro, 
As if borne through the upper air 
By fitful winds — precisely where, 
Or up or down, or here or there, 

The senses were at fault to know. 

But one there was on board to whom 
The marvel brought but doubt and gloom — 
Their pilot-rai's ( a gray-haired sheik) — 
" Make all things close," he promptly spake, 
" The kamsin is about to break 
Upon us ! — it must not surprise 
Our good bark in her present guise ! " 
Then paced the deck in thoughtful mood, 
Murmuring in accents more subdued, 
" Arrested thus, so near the shore ! — 

Already closes in the night ! — 
had the wind held one hour more ! — 

And see ! Ben Hassan's signal light 



168 HESTER. 

Even now gleams from the ruined tower, 
As was arranged ! — a single hour 
Of that good breeze, had been enough 

To bring us to the inlet, where 
We had been safe, beneath the bluff; 

But Allah have us in his care ! " 

Meanwhile the crew had furled each sail, 
But not too soon — the burning gale 
Already held them in duress ! -— 
Gale ! give the word its utmost stress 
Of meaning, and 'twill not express 
The explosion — bursting from the land 
With searing heat, and blinding sand, 
And flame, and smoke, and volleying crash 
Of thunder burst, and lightning flash — 
That whirled them shivering, torn and rent, 

Out headlong o'er the hissing tide, 
They knew not whither, — impotent 

In aught to help themselves, or guide 
Their course ! 

Thereafter what befel 



THE KAMSIN. 169 

The Briton, lie could scarcely tell ; 
He only knew that 'midst the din 
Their craft held out awhile to spin 
Along the goaded waste — then came 
A shock, a crash, and all was o'er! 
This he remembered, nothing more. — 
When he awoke, a burning flame 

Was on his lips, and bruised and sore, 
Within an Arab tent he lay ; 
He would have risen, but the essay , 

Was futile — yet the stir apprised 

One who, it seemed, had near his side, 
Kept watch, in whom he recognized 

The noble Aloween, their guide 
Across the desert, and from whom 

He learnt their bark with half her crew 
Was whelmed beneath the wave ! 

" Thou, too,' 
The old chief spake, " hadst met thy doom, 
But for a peerless Almeh, who 
Rushed to the wreck-lined shore, and drew 
Thy cold corse from the billows' strife ; 



170 HESTEE. 

And by such stress of heavenly art 

As only Allah could impart, 
At length hath won thee back to life ! — 
As only Allah could inspire ! 

Unless the maiden's charms, indeed, 
Hath quickened in thy heart the fire 

Of life again ! And well I rede, 
Nor marvel much, that this might be, 

For ne'er did moonshid's tale express 
Such form of faultless symmetry, 

Such matchless grace and loveliness ! 
Brow lucid as the henneh's flower, 

Eyes dark as those of the gazelle, 

And lustrous as with passion's spell, 
And cheek like morning's rosy hour 
On some tall marble minaret 
Just blushing — hair whose glossy jet 
Would make the kohl itself seem pale, 

With coy love nestled in each curl, 

And teeth to rival Ormus pearl ! 
But my poor speech, brave Frank, would fail 
To paint such houri — thou shouldst see 



PREMONITION. 171 

To know ! Beshrew me ! but 'twas she 
Methinks — I'm sure 'twas she — who late 
So nobly braved the pasha's hate, 
To save thee from a culprit's fate ! " 

" What ! " quoth the knight, " the Jewish maid ! 

How could she Haroun's spies evade ? " 
" The how, 'tis not for such as I 
To comprehend ; " was the reply, 

" Unless 'twas by the prophet's aid — 

Bismillah ! but thus much can tell, 

While we were camping in the dell, 

Where thou didst part our company, 
She with her guard and gray-beard sire 
Appeared beside our evening fire ! — 

Hers is the santon's gift to see 

The wonders of futurity ! 

And calling me in haste aside, 

She urged that evil would betide 

This cruise of thine ; that as a friend 
Of our great cause I ought to send 
To thy assistance ! 



172 HESTER. 

" Naught would do 

But I must, with a chosen few, 
Our swiftest camels mount, and ride 

At once — I fain thought to pursue 
A shade ; but vain did I advise. 

Good sooth ! the honey of her tongue, 

As closely to my arm she clung, 
And poured the lustre of her eyes 

Into my very soul, had lured 
My feet away from Paradise, 

Were I just at its gates, assured 
Of welcome ! — vain would I gainsay, 
So mount we did, and night and day, 
With scarce a halt, urged on afar, 

Athwart the drear sands of El Tyh, 
And o'er the dunes of Akabah, 

Until our weary troop drew nigh 
The coast, just reached in time to save 
A few brave comrades from the wave ! " 

" Good sheik, this is a wondrous tale 

Of thine ! " exclaimed the knight, his eye 



AN UNEXPECTED VISITOR. 173 

Fixed on the Arab, as 'twould pry 
Into his heart ; " yet what avail 
To cavil, with thy presence here 

In surety thou dost not deceive ! — 
Was ever heard the like ? Howe'er, 

'Twere equal madness to believe 
As doubt — and deem not I deride 

Thy honesty, when I beseech, 

Where bides the Jewess ? " 

Ere his speech 

The sheik had framed to meet the doubt, 

Approaching steps were heard without — 
The curtain folds were drawn aside, 
And De"siree stood in the tent, 

In bearing, form, and feature she, 
But worn and pale, as if o'erspent 

With vigil and anxiety 
(Yet not impaired a single grace) ; 
But soon this anxious mein gave place 
To one of thankfulness elate ! — 

Whence came this change ? Was it the power 
Of kindliness alone — innate 
12 



174 HESTER. 

Ill woman's heart? Why, hour by hour, 
Thereafter hung she round his bed, 
With sleepless eye, and noiseless tread, 
When fitful fever rocked his brain, 
To fan his brow, and sooth his pain, 
To wet his lips, and from his sight 
Debar the desert's cloudless light, 
Why ready at his slightest sigh 
To serve him, and with chiding smile, 
Which in itself could pain beguile, 
To counsel silence when he fain 

Would thank her for her kindness — why ? 



CHAPTER XIII 



Time pressed the chiefs. A tarry short 

At ancient Ezion Geber's fort, 

Now in possession of their friends, 

And they departed. Northward wends 

The pass El Ghor, adust and wide 

And weary, walled on either side 

With frowning ridges, heavenward thrown, 

As they had been asunder hurled 

By fragment of some other world 
Swung sphereless, glancing 'gainst our own ! 
And up this wady, once o'erspread 

By some tremendous river's sweep, 
Through sands, in which at every tread, 

Their panting steeds sank fetlock deep, 
The troops their toilsome route pursue — 



176 HESTER. 

The knight and Absalom the Jew, 

Apart in converse. 

"Here of eld 

The haughty dukes of Edom held 

Their rule ; " exclaimed the old man — " here 
They made their dwellings in the rock, 
And thence came forth in pomp, to mock 
At Israel ; — where are now their pride 
And power ? Our prophets prophesied — 

They set their faces 'gainst Mount Seir, 

And spake in burning words the will 
Of Heaven, and Edom fell — a prey 

Decreed, to every scourge and ill 
That claims alliance with decay ; 
Their thronging hosts were swept away, 
And none thereafter to this day 

Pass through their land, as was foretold ; 
Their palaces are desolate, 
The owl, the vulture, and his mate, 

And wild beasts of the desert, hold 

Estate in all their wide domain ! — 
So may the doom of Heaven disperse 



INSPIRATION. 177 

The cruel tyrants who now curse 
Mount Zion with their graceless reign ! " 

f 'Tis fitly said ! " returned the knight ; 

" A proper prayer ! and to that end, 
May we soon have a cast to smite 

The caitiffs ! — but, my noble friend, 
As to this power of prophecy, 
Methought that it had ceased to be — 

Had perished with the seers who penned 
The holy records, and outside 
Those records could no more abide ; 
So saith the Christian's priestly guide, 
At least ; but late events have shown 
The future is at times foreknown." 

" Nor rest such doubts alone with those 
Who in the Nazarene repose 
Their confidence," discoursed the Jew. 
" But is there any matter new 
Or old with Heaven ? Wouldst gauge the scope 
Of inspiration ? Wouldst confine 



178 HE S TE E. 

God's will, the never-failing mine 
Of thought, to character and trope 
Of written tongues, which year by year 
Grow in their meaning, shift and vere, 
Or cease to mean ? Restrict as well 
Light to the diamond in its cell, 
Or hold the ocean in the shell 
That glitters on the shore ! — Be blind 

To wind, wave, forest, mountain, sky — 
Bid the strong surges of the mind 

Roll back, and leave the soul-bed dry 
As imbricated sands, whereon 

The facile fingers of the sea 

Have left in weird chirography 
A record of its power, and gone 
Back to the depths — so thou' It succeed 

In any effort to ignore 

The thought-waifs drifting from the shore 
Of the invisible world ! Indeed, 

There's not a bird, a moth, a flower, 
The smallest mote of life — or seed, 
So thou their form and fashion heed, 



INSPIRATION. 179 

But quickeneth in thyself this power 
Of ingress to the spirit-plain 
Of cause ! " 

Returned the other, " Yain 
Were the attempt, perchance, for me 
To comprehend such mystery ; 
And yonder pasha, in his cell, 
I'll not gainsay, advised me well 
To leave these things to priest, and scribe, 
And mufti. Not of those who gibe 
At holy ministry am I ! " 
" Nor needst thou gibe ; " the Jew's reply — 
" Jehovah's ministry includes 
All people and all things ; all moods, 
All places, times — and in his sight, 
All things are in their essence right — 
He made them ! " — 

Interfered the knight : 
" I'll not contend — this may be so ! 
And yet it scarcely serves to show 
How one with certainty may know 
The morrow ! By what mystic cast 



180 HESTER. 

Of mind, for instance, noble Jew, 
Came it that thou and thine foreknew 

Our peril from the kamsin's blast ? 

Not certainly from any phase 

Indicative of nature's ways ! " 

" It came from the immortal spheres," 
Exclaimed the Jew — " e'en as to seers 
Of old, such inspiration came — 
Save in degree, the power's the same ! 
And if thou wouldst this holy fire 
Of spirit-prescience know, inquire 
At the soul's portals ! Not as they 
Who deem that Heaven can but obey 
Loud-toned behests — but calm, and meek, 
And patiently, the answer seek ; 
And though it linger day by day, 
'Twill come at length — remote and dim, 
Perchance, as steals the evening hymn 
Of bell tones o'er far-reaching plain, 
From unseen church tower — yet again 
Distinct, as from the seraphim 



THE KNIGHT'S COMMAND. 181 

The thought were flashed upon the brain ! 
But only they who check the thrall 

Of earth wants have this gift sublime, 
And they each in degree — not all 

Were prophets in the elder time." 

In converse thus did they beguile 

The tedium of the weary way, 
Till issuing through a rough defile, 

At day's decline (their second day), 
The thronging troops about Mount Hor 

Burst on their view, a strange array 
As ever champion led to war ! 
Druse, Turcoman, Jew, Arab, Frank, 

In separate squadrons stretched afar, 
Till lost beyond the mountain's flank, 

Who, as he passed, with loud huzza ! 
And Allah hu ! — wild cheer on cheer — 
With flashing sword, and lifted spear, 
And banner flout, from front to rear, 
As if all ready for the fight, 
Hailed as their welcome chief the knight ! 



182 HESTER. 

His proud eye kindled at the sight, 
And as he spurred from band to band, 
Reigning his steed with master hand, 
With wilder fervor were renewed 

Their greetings, until chasm, redoubt, 
Crag, glen, and distant solitude 

Rang and re-echoed to the shout ! — 



CHAPTER XIV 



A week had passed, a toilsome week ; 

Beneath a lofty colonade, 

In ruined Petra's midnight shade, 
The knight had thrown him down to seek 
A moment's slumber (while without, 
Upon the hills and round about, 
His troops were scattered) ; but he pressed 
In vain his lonely couch for rest, 
For thought was busy ! — From the coast 

Of Gaza, and from Hebron's side, 
Approached the foe, a countless host, 

And now stood ready to abide 
The gage of battle ; and the morn 
Would hear the onset's signal horn ! 



184 HESTER. 

God wot ! no gala pageantry. 

Had been their march, for day and night, 

On flank and rear, reserve and right, 
The Briton's nimble cavalry, 
The desert-born, in clouds had hung, 
And ever sure to dash among 

Their squadrons where expected least ! — j 
A sudden shriek ! a wildering clash 
Of arms! — and groans! — the lightning's flash ! 

And gone ! the din, ere fully ceased, 
Belike renewed ! — And many a feast 
For vulture and for beast of prey 
Along their reeking pathway lay ! — 
And now came the decisive day ! 

The Briton slept not — and at last 

He rose and round about him cast. 

Naught the tranquility alarms ; 

His guards at hand, slept on their arms, 

Careless of what might come ; and near, 

The sentinel leaned on his~spear, 

A statue motionless and tall 



NIGHT SCENE IN PETRA. 185 

As those which decked the paneled wall — 
While ruined palace, temple, shrine, 

From the eternal mountain hewn, 
In solemn, far extended line, 

Gleamed in the glances of the moon, 
Which full-orbed rode the cloudless blue 
Of heaven. 

Lured by the matchless view, 
He strolled forth up the valley's bend, 
Incautious whitherward might tend 

His footsteps, and awhile forgot 

All care — until a faint-heard shot 
Afar, induced him to ascend 
The mountain steep, whence he might scan 

The distant bivouac of the foe ; 
The ruins of a temple ran 
Athwart the height, (some mighty plan 

Of the immortal Long Ago, 
Ere Edom fell) — plinth, tablet, frieze, 
And broken shaft. On one of these 

He sat him down — at hand below, 
The gorge of Petra, filled with light — 



186 HESTER. 

While stretching northward, to the right, 
Amidst the shaggy summits twined 

The flaring central wady — sight 

Sublime ! — and where its sands combined 

Their purple with the purple sky, 

Leagues distant, he could just descry 

The foe's close columns, spreading wide 

And black as some vast river's tide, 

Of lone Brazilian wilds, when spurned 
By midnight gales. Yet scarce his seat 
The knight had sought, when stealthy feet 

Approaching caught his ear — he turned, 

And De*siree stood at his side, 

Pale, anxious, tremulous ! 

He caught 
Her hand, but let it fall again, 
As if pierced by some sudden pain ! 

"Thou here, strange maiden ! art distraught?" 

At length he spake — " Art mad ? — - methought 
It settled that thou shouldst remain 

At Akabah ! " 

" And so 'twas planned," 



THE JEWESS. 187 

She made reply — " but prison drear 
It proved, with its wild wastes of sand 

And sullen waves, and no one near 
For fellowship ! My kinsman's band, 
Which thence last evening came to hand, 

Was escort safe ! — And where but here 
Does duty call me ? Should I take 
No interest in the mighty stake 
Which extirpates a tyrant's force 

"Pis hoped — and makes my sire a king — 
And thou — and thou " — " perchance a corse ! " 
Broke in the knight ; " why hesitate 
To speak the thought ? And welcome fate 

Perhaps 'twould be ! " 

"Oh, wherefore sting 

Thy friends with such rash bantering ? 
Why raise such fears ! Oh, if 'twere so ! " 

Exclaimed she wildly, as his arm 

She grasped with look of deep alarm, 
And gazed into his face — " But no ! 
May heaven forefend ! " — 

A sudden light 



188 HESTER. 

Flashed on his brain — that look ! that tone ! 
Once more her hand was clasped, despite 

Instinctive coyness, in his own ; 
And in her upturned, pallid brow, 
Ne'er half so beautiful as now, 
Prone on his arm, he sought to read 
A certitude of what indeed 
He feared to hope as to despair, 
Feared with no purpose to forbear ! — 

He gazed till admiration grew 

To passion fires, which to subdue 

He strove, till quivered nerve and vein, 

Nor longer able to restrain 

The storm, he caught her to his breast 

As though her strength were naught — and prest 

His lips to hers — thought, soul, heart, will, 

Combined in that ecstatic thrill ! 

" Mine, De'sire'e, mine must thou be ! " 

He murmured incoherently, 

" Forever mine ! " 

In vain the maid 



A DECLARATION. 189 

His burning words sought to evade ; 

" Nay ! nay ! brave Frank ! " she spake at length. 

Repulsing him with all her strength — 

" It cannot be ! Wo will betide 

This passion sure ! Think of thy bride 

In thy far home ! — But heaven forefend 
That my last words should be to chide 

One who has proved my more than friend, 
And that when just to risk his life 
For me and mine in deadly strife ! 

Yet leave me ! leave me ! " and a tear 
Stole down her burning cheek — " Oh, why 
This bitter test ? — then turned to fly — 

Yet checked the thought in mid career ; 
And standing for a moment still, 
As taxing all her strength of will 
For some strange purpose, with firm tread, 
Retraced her steps to whence she sped. 

" I might," she slowly spake, " have doomed 
To closest mask, the love I feel 
For thee — might stifle, crush, conceal, 

13 



190 HESTER. 

Till life were by its fires consumed — 
Might ! said I ? Oh, I have repressed 
The burning secret in my breast, 
Till it hath robbed me of all rest ! 

But cannot bear to give thee pain ! 
Be this of my deep love the test, 

Sir Rudolph — I accept the stain ! — 
Thine thou wouldst have me — be it so ! 

Whate'er thy lot, my love, my truth, 

Shall transcend that of gentle Ruth — 
Not only with thee will I go, 

But if thou scorn'st, I'll not repine ; 
Thy friends, thy kin, the least — no ! 

They'd spurn me ! — whosoe'er of thine 

Would seek my service, shall be mine ! 
And wheresoe'er thy latest sigh 
Is heaved, if thou should st wish me nigh, 
There will I bide, there will I die ! 
For thee, for thee, be wrong my right, 
So thou dost will ! — 

" Now for the fight ! 
For see, already dawns the light, 



A BREAK IN THE STORY. 191 

And sounds the trumpet call ; and yet 
I fain would keep thee here — weak heart 
That mine has grown — but go ! depart! 

The fearful crisis must be met ! " 
And with a sudden turn, she drew 

His lips to hers, as if to set 

A seal to their betrothal — then, 

Light as a fawn, sprang down the glen, 
And instantly was lost to view. 



Carl Hildebrand at this point rose — 

The usual hour of their repose 

Had long since passed ; but 'twas agreed 
He should the morrow night proceed 

With the narration to its close. 

" And how," said he, about to move 
Towards the door, " dost thou approve, 
Fair Hester, of my heroine ? " 

The lady musing shook her head, 



192 HESTEK. 

As with slow emphasis she said, 

" Good Carl ! would thou hadst with the dead 
Consigned her, ere this shame and sin 
Had blighted ! Beautiful, but weak ! — 

I'd have her pure as virgin snow 
Just drifted on the topmost peak 
Of alpine mountains — far above 
A speck of earth stain, in her love ! 

Unshaken, whether weal or wo 
Might follow — firm at- every cost ! — 

Such my ideal. — Good Carl, no ! 
Not virtue and not honor lost, 
However tried and tempest tost ! — 
I had worshipped at the shrine 
Of one so noble, so divine, 
As thou hadst painted, had she proved 

Immaculate and pure, despite 

Her own heart, and this recreant knight, 
With all his passion stress — unmoved ! " 

" But lady, in that fervid clime, 

Where woman's love is bought and sold," 






ORIENTAL CUSTOMS. 193 

Said Carl, " 'tis not considered crime 
To wive with many — paltry gold, 
Where man doth set his heart, can buy " — 
" Not love I not love ! " her quick reply, 
" Thou know'st it not, good Carl — but slaves ! 
There are no women there ! Such soil 
Can only blunt, debase, despoil ! — 
Nor wonder, too, the men are knaves ! 

" And as to this base Briton, he 

Not even this custom vile could plead ; 
A noble stamp of chivalry, 

God wot ! 'Twere fitting fate indeed, 
That in the fortunes of the fight, 
Thou art to paint to-morrow night, 

Some well-timed sword or shot should speed 
The caitiff" — 

" Nay, good lady ! nay ! " 

Broke in old Carl, his bronzed face pale 
As with a mortal fear — "I pray 

Beware ! This is no fancy tale, 
But " — here he checked himself again, 



194 HESTER. 

And feigned a mood jocose ('twas plain' 
'Twas but assumed, a poor disguise), 

And with forced laughter fled the scene, 
Ere Hester had from her surprise 
So far recovered as to press 
The question, whence this earnestness 

So sudden ! And what could it mean ? 



BOOK SECOND 



CHAPTER I. 



The light had fled the evening sky- 
Again — along the ocean's rim, 
The ghostly twilight, gray and dim, 
Reached up as peering to make sure 
Advancement might be made, secure 

From dreaded Sol's all-piercing eye ! 

And yet though lustreless the cope 
Of heaven, a dreamy, roseate glow 

Lingered on wave, tree, rock, and slope, 
As of the air, or to the flow 

Pertaining, of the gentle wind 

That came with dew-fall ; or some ray — 
From the bright retinue of Day, 

Lured by the matchless scene — entwined 

Among the isles, and left behind — 



198 , HESTER. 

In its last moments self-illumed ! — 
The island household were once more 
Assembled at the cottage door, 

Around old Carl who thus his promised tale 
resumed. 



CARL HILDEBRAND'S STORY— COMPLETED. 

The light adown the curtained east 
Of which the Jewess spake, increased 
To day, and far along the groove 

Of the broad wady, close and dun, 
The foe's vast squares were on the move — 
Their weapons in the rising sun 
Swept as by flames, as hence and yon 
They wheeled, came into line, deployed, 
In splendid pageant, to avoid 
Or mountain spur, or parapet, 
Or the wild horsemen who beset 
Their march from every nook and pass — 



THE APPROACHING ARMY. 199 

Until at length the dusky mass 
Grew into well defined platoons 

And squadrons — lancers gay, whose spears 

Flickered like bird flights, deep formed scores 

Of haughty mamelukes and Moors, 
Gleaming with gold ; and staid dragoons 
From Crotia's northern hills, allied 

With spahees fierce, and fusileers 
From Dakel, and the regions far 
Of sultry Meroe and Sennaar, 

Wide sweeping onward, as careers 
Some alpine river's surging tide, 
Burst from its barriers — serried ranks 
Of rude adventurers, Greeks and Franks, 

And dark embattled cannoniers, 
With their huge enginery of death 

Plunging along the sand drifts slow 
And dread, the adjutants the while, 

And agas, dashing to and fro, 
And up and down the broad defile, 
On foaming steeds ; and in morn's breath, 
Banner and pennon fluttering free 



200 HESTEB. 

And far, and all the tinselry 

And show attaching to the plight 

Of warfare, shimmering in the light — 

Ay, lady ! never mortal e'en, 

I trow, regarded braver scene ! 

Nor deem ye on the Briton's side 
That aught was wanting to abide 
The onset. Batteries, light 'tis true 

(These only through vast toil obtained, 
By the indomitable Jew), 

At points most sheltered had been trained 

To sweep the pass ; and ambuscade, 

And deadly mine, 

Where'er their line 

Of march exposed the foe, were laid ; 

And every shelf that could command 

The open wady, every slope 

And chasm, where the assailed might hope 

Successfully with odds to cope, 
Or with advantage might withstand 
The battle's rush, teemed with its band 



BATTLE ARRAY. 201 

Eager for battle. 

Yet o'er hill 
And valley, all was steadfast, still ! 
So quiet that the little rill 
Which, 'midst the oleanders, wound 
About the rocky parapet 
Where Eudolph and the chiefs were met 
To scan the foe, sent forth a sound 

That startled with its restless fret, 

As ominous ! And save when gleamed 

Some weapon flashing in the day, 

Or some impatient charger's neigh 

Destroyed the spell, ye might have deemed 

The post abandoned ! 

Onward drave 
The foe's battalions — wave on wave 
Of serried scarlet, green, and gold, 
Right onward ; and before them rolled 
The Briton's outposts, as debris 
Is whirled before the toppling sea 

That seeks the shore ! while beckoning sword, 
And trumpet call, and eager word 



202 HESTER. 

And cheer, from every quarter stirred 

The farthest ranks to ecstasy 

Of burning courage ! On they came 
Resistless — full a league of horse 
And foot, resplendent with emboss, 
And banner flout, and plumage toss I 

When suddenly a blast of flame 

From hidden battery and mine, 

Blazed on their close, extended line! 

Down sweeping scores — crest, pennon, lance, 
In heaps confused ! and chargers reeled, 
Or riderless dashed o'er the field; 

And agas rushed to the advance ! 
Again the shivering thunders pealed ! 

And furrows gaped adown the square, 

As ploughed by some tremendous share ! 

Yet but a moment did the stun 

Balk their array — they wheel and pour 
Upon the muniment, whose roar 
Gives place to clash of swords and spears, 
And struggling groups, and groans and cheers, 

While down the rugged mountain run 



THE BATTLE. 203 

At hand, sweep fresh ranks to support 

Their hard-pressed comrades in the fort, 
And thrice the point is lost and won, 

Ere had as many minutes flown ; 

But still they strive ! 

Yet not alone 
At this point is the fight begun ! 

Far to the right the thunder tone 
Of cannon wakes, and sweeps the tide 
Of battle up the mountain side, 
To be hurled backwards, as the surge 
That 'gainst the rock-ribbed shore would urge 
Its fury ! — in the searing blaze, 

Eider and horse, and battery train, 

And broken square, and shattered wain 
Commingled in wide, wildered maze ! 

But 'tis to Haroun's bristling front, 

His main reliance for success, 
That we must turn to find the brunt 
Of battle ! Onward still they twine, 
Regardless of exploding mine, 



204 



EESTEB 



And volleying shot that right and left 

Have rained from ridge, ravine, and cleft, 
Unswerving onward — numberless 
As locust swarms ! And now they press, 

With headlong rush and eager shout, 
The passes where commands the knight 

In person — and along redoubt 

And mound, thrown up on every heigh t 3 

The flaming batteries' thunders wake, 
Returned by the exultant foe 
In shot for shot, and blow for blow, 
Until beneath the boom and din 
Of falconet and culverin, 

The very mountains seem to shake ! — 

Still through the vortex on they keep 
Their steady march, with dripping blade 
And flaming carbine — now betrayed 
In some unlooked-for enfilade 

To raking battery's tempest sweep 

Anon advantaged. 

Checked, convulsed, 

Borne forward, swerving, stayed, repulsed - 



THE BATTLE. 205 

At length they gain a sheltered bridge 
Of rock (upheaved from hill to hill, 
The work of Nature's wondrous skill), 
Where under cover of a ridge 
Of their own dead, with dauntless nerve, 
Screened from the raking battery's sweep, 
They battle those who guard the way ; 
And possibly had won the day 
But for the Briton's strong reserve, 
Which now pours down the neighboring steep ! 

'Twere worse than madness to abide 
The rush of that o'erwhelming tide ! ■ — 
They turn, but in retreat disdain 
To hasten, though a hurricane 

Of plunging missiles, belched from scores 
Of brazen tubes, and leaden rain 

From thrice a thousand fusils, roars 
Adown the narrow valley's bend, 
Full on their reeling ranks, to rend, 
Detach, wreck — whirl to heaps, like grain 
Upon some Carolinian plain, 

14 



206 HESTER. 

Grasped by the whirlwinds, when come on 

The summer tempests. 

But anon 

The ascending smoky volumes soar 
Above the cliffs, and floating lie 
From hill to hill, 'twixt earth and sky 
(That sky, so mild, so blue, serene 
And holy), shutting out the scene 

From view, as Heaven would thus ignore 
The fearful feud ! — and cannon peal 

And stench of sulphur, sweat, and gore, 
And scorching flesh, alone reveal 
The work their murky folds conceal ! 

And where, while these events transpire, 
Bides the fair Jewess ? — 

With her sire 
And dusky handmaid, and a band 
Of warriors posted near at hand 
To guard them — and an Arab steed 
(Sleek coursers of the desert stock) 
For each, in case there should be need, 



THE BATTLE. 207 

She had beheld the wildering shock 

Of battle, from a steep ravine 

High up the hills — the headlong rush, 
The sweeping lines, the torrent gush 

And turmoil of the fearful scene 

Full on her view — one thought intense 

Enchaining every look and sense ! 

That thought, 'twere little need to tell, 
Referred to him now dear as life, 
How fared he in the fearful strife ? — 

With jewel-studded petronel 

And yataghan of Persia, bound 

In the green mantle flung around 

Her waist, her taper fingers wound 

Among hef courser's mane — while streamed 
Her own dark locks 'scaped from bandeau 
And fillet, o'er her bosom's snow, 

And draped her lifted arm — she seemed 

But as a statue ! 

Well for her, 
The gentle creature, trained to obey 



208 HESTER. 

Her slightest glance, forbore to stir — 
Forbore, yet oft his whinnying neigh 

And longing eye towards her turned, 

Told how his eager spirit yearned 
To mingle in the far affray ! 

Her white-haired parent stood aloof 

Some paces, rigid as the stone 

'Gainst which he leaned — save when his roan, 
Pawing the earth with scornful hoof, 
Disturbed his mood — his snowy beard 

Pressed to his bosom, while his sight 
Was turned away, as if he feared 

To watch the fortunes of the fight, 
Lest haply evil might betide 
His friends the while ; — and at her t side 
A santon of the desert bowed 

His forehead to the ground in prayer. 
Erewhile the battle's turbid cloud 

Came wavering up the lambent air, 
Athwart the scene, concealing all 
Beneath its fetid, sombre pall ! 



THE BATTLE. 209 

" What sayest thou, santon, art impressed ? " 
At length she dubiously addressed 

The holy man — " how goes the fight ? 

How fares it with the leader-knight, 
And his ? — gracious Heaven, arrest 
The fatal ball and thrusting steel ! " 

She cried, scarce conscious what she said — 
" hear a sinful girl's appeal, 

Nor with the smitten or the dead 
Let him be numbered. " 

Then again 
She grasped her courser's silken rein, 
And downwards gazed, as if she fain 

Would leap the dizzy chasm, and spur 

Into the unseen melee's whir, 
While every muscle, every vein 
Of her excited steed would swell 

And tremble, as with head on high, 

And arching neck, and liquid eye, 
He felt, or seemed to feel, the spell 
That had come o'er her spirit ! Then 

Again she turned away, and sank 



210 HESTER. 

With trembling limbs against the bank, 

Among the oleanders rank, 
That flooded with their bloom the glen, 
In agony of hopeless dread ; 

And with her eyes hid in her palm, 

So rigid sat, so mute and calm, 
Ye might have deemed her spirit fled ! 

At times the sluggish clouds withdrew ; — 
When opened far upon their view 
Brief glimpses of the surging sea 
Of passion-thralled humanity ! — 
Here circling, as the maelstrom sweeps, 

Towards some knoll or vantage ground, 

Rank jostling rank, and pellmell wound 

Together in the billowy race ; 

There reeling from the mountain's base — 
Dark hosts — whence all unlooked-for leaps 
Some battery's flame ; again in heaps 
Piled round some banner, which, though oft 

Swayed to and fro, and hard beset 
From every point, still flies aloft ! 



THE BATTLE. 211 

Here in unyielding struggle met — 
Staggering and toppling, friend and foe 
So intermixed they scarce can know 
Where to expect or aim a blow ; 
There pressed, some stalwart column's wreck, 

Against the precipice's wall, 
And keeping desperate odds in check ; 

Yon mustering at the bugle's call, 
Disparted squadrons to renew 
The charge, the many 'gainst the few ; 
Or forced on some entrenchment's fire, 
Powerless to advance as to retire, 
And melting file by file away ! — 
Thus ever changing in array, 
Speed on the fortunes of the day ! — 

And wide o'er all the field are strown, 

The battle's wrecks, — the dead, the maimed 

And dying — tumbril overthrown 
And shattered — culverin which flamed 

No longer, wheel-less, or impent 
In drifts and fosses of the slain — 



212 HESTER. 

Banners half poised, and soiled, and rent — 
Slow smoldering ambulance and wain — 

And matchlocks, spears, and lances sprent 

'Midst mangled horsemen, foot, and steeds, 

Thick as the jungle's broken reeds 

By Irrawaddy, when has passed 

The typhoon's scourge ! And here and there, 

Where strife has ceased, and where are massed 

The battle's wrecks most dense, the steam 
Of ebbing life, and thickening gore, 
And sweat of agonized despair, 
Ascending slowly up the air, 
As sluggish mists that crinkle o'er 

The surface of some still, deep stream, 

In cool autumnal morning's beam ! 

lady ! ye may well opine 

That tongue of glibest clerk would fail 
To paint the scene — to tell the tale, 
Much less such homely speech as mine ! 

Thus hour by hour of torture wore 
Away, and still the battle's roar 






THE BATTLE. 213 

Continued — but portent of fear ! 

At length it plainly drew more near — 

When suddenly, begrimed and soiled, 

The knight came staggering up the dell — 
" All's lost ! in victory's moment foiled " 
He gasped — "by traitors ! — mount ! retreat 

Ere 'tis too late ! — haste ! haste ! " and fell 
Expiring at the old Jew's feet ! 

"No ! by the sword of Gideon ! no ! " 
Exclaimed the old man, while a glow 

Of energy, inspired, sublime, 
Ennerved him — " not till one more blow 

Is given ! Ho, guards ! now is our time ! 

To horse ! from every scabbard leap 
Its thirsty steel, 
And on them wheel 
Resistless as the lightning sped 
From heaven! To horse ! " And scarce was said 

The mandate, ere adown the steep, 
With echoing cheers, and flashing blade, 

Full on the foe's exultant troops 






214 HESTER. 

They broke, in compact front — asmoops 

The eagle on his prey, as falls 

The snow bolt from the blue, calm halls 

Of alp-supported skies ! 

Dismayed, 

The advancing squadrons waver, shrink, 

Bear back o'er precipice's brink, 

And broken ridge, and scattered rock, 

Ere they could raise one answering shout, — 
Horsemen and horse, in mingled rout 
Down toppling, shattered ! — What avail 
That I should longer eke the tale, 

My mistress ? Never yet was shock 

More timely, signal — ne'er defeat 

More overwhelming and complete ! 



CHAPTER II. 



Soon had the uproar of the fight 
Swept by, and on the mountain cleft 
The Jewess and her maid were left 

Alone, beside the bleeding knight ! 

The silence of the desert, mute 
And motionless, o'er hill and vale, 

» Resumed its reign ; save when the gale 
In passing brought the far, faint wail 
Of dying myriads to their ears, 
Or more remote the shouts and cheers 
Of those who in the hot pursuit 
Still followed. 

From his hiding place 
Among the dwarf acacias, stole 
The amazed gazelle, with timid pace, 



216 HESTER. 

And ears raised ; and from gulch and knoll, 
Where the thick fiery poppies glowed 
Like living coals, the partridge strode, 
And gazed around, and stretched his wing 
And faintly clucked, as wondering 
What all this pother could imply ; 
While from the blue depths of the sky, 
The thronging vultures, train on train, 

Drop down, unseen before, and spin 
Their slow gyrations o'er the slain 

And dying, eager to begin 
Their ghastly banquet — every round 
Descending nearer to the ground. 

But, little heed paid D^sirde 
To these things, while the Briton lay 
Before her with the mists of death 
Fast gathering in his eyes — his breath 
So faint, that when she tore away 
His vesture, and down stooping, pressed 
Her ear against his manly chest, 
The stagnant silence of his heart 



life's questionings. 217 

Smote hers as with a mortal chill ! 

But what is life ? — Can man by will 
Of his own to his frere impart ? — 
I fain believe it ! — Nay ! why start 
So strangely, lady ? — Or, the same 
Are life, soul, spirit ? Whereof came 
The subtle essence ? 

Man awaits 

An answer — through the ages long 

Has waited, patient, swerveless, strong 
Of purpose — pressing at the gates 
Of that eternal bourne, where He 

Who only can reply, abides, 

And 'neath its shadowy ramparts, hides 
His purposes of mystery ! 
Life ! who may track it when are spent 

Its fires ? And is it then a force 
No more ? or are its forces blent 

With some wide realm of such, the source 
Whence all life comes ? It was, is not — 

The thing it moved lies still and stark ! 
None saw, felt, heard it pass — none wot 






218 HESTER. 

The moment when it left its ark 
Of matchless beauty, or the where 
It bides ! It was — it is not there ! 
Is all we know ! Why then define 
Its powers, conditions — or assign 
Its bounds ? 

Know, lady, at the least, 
'Tis nowise rare for Moslem priest 
And warrior santon of the East — 
In occult art from all time versed — 
To stay its issues, now as erst, 
By power of faith ! This well I know, 

Else have my senses often scanned 

To little purpose. Hand in hand, 
The strong may of his strength bestow 

Upon the weak ; nay more ! by will 
Alone, unaided, thus lure back 
The flown life to its wonted track, 

Along the pulses ! Wherefore nill ? 
If in the mystic Long Ago, 
Why not at present ? 

But the hour 



THE WOUNDED KNIGHT. 219 

Is near at hand when all this power 

Will ken ! And well the Jewess knew 

Its potency, and softly drew 

His hand in hers, and smoothed his brow 

And temples, whereon even now 

Death's dew was gathering fast. At length 

He feels her vitalizing strength, 

And oped his eyes, and wildly gazed 

Around, bewildered and amazed ! 

A few words set his mind aright 
As to the issue of the fight ; 
And then in strips the maiden tore 
The linen vesture which she wore 
Beneath her caftan, and applied 
Its cool lint to his bleeding side 
And chest, with skill that never leech 

Bred in the schools, surpassed ; and bound 
"With such few simples as in reach 

Upon the neighboring rocks were found, 
Therewith his hurts — then plucked and spread 

The wild oat and the feathery broom, 



220 HESTER. 

And sleepy poppy's wealth of bloom, 
In the rock's shadow for a bed, 

Whereon, assisted by her maid 

With gentlest care, his limbs she laid, 
And pillowing in her lap his head, 

With upturned, pallid face, she prayed 
That Heavenly Love would interfere 
And wrest from Death his lifted spear ; 
And ere that whispered, earnest prayer 
Had ceased to charm the listening air, 
Upon his lids soft slumber fell — 
And for the moment, all was well ! 



CHAPTEE III 



How often hath the best formed plan 
Been balked by cause most trivial ! Man 
Will risk life, health, hope, heaven, indeed 
The last to risk — religious creed, 
Upon some favorite issue — strain 
His every energy to gain 
The wished-for boon — besiege, invade, 
Sack, burn, sink countless treasure, wade 
Through seas of blood ! and when is won 
At last, the longed-for rubicon, 
Will stake the dearly-purchased prize 

Upon some " trifle light as air " ! 

Alas ! that e'er I should declare 
Such shabby fate to an emprise 

Begun with auguries so fair 

15 



222 



HESTER. 



As this, the Jew's attempt to free 
His father-land from tyranny — 
Begun with such decisive blow ; 
Yet, lady ! it was even so ! 

It little boots that I relate 

The sad details ! how jealousy 
Of precedence grew into hate 

Among the chiefs ; how bigotry 
Of diverse faiths, foremost to fill 
The world with war, blood — every ill, 
From all time, meekly crept among 
The tents, and lapped with slimy tongue 
The crumbs of discord that were flung 
Toward its eager maw, till fed 
To full, it reared its hydra head, 
And spewed the venom of its spite 
On every hand (the while the knight, 
Who solely had the power to stay 
These fierce dissensions, helpless lay 
Upon his bed of pain) — till they, 
Who at the war's inception burned 



MUTINY. 223 

As one, to smite the tyrant, turned 
Their swords upon each other's ranks ; 

And thus their strength was thrown away — 

And then chief after chief withdrew 

His force, till but a faithful few 
Of stalwart Israelites and Franks 

Clung to the standard of the Jew. 

Nor was the wary spoiler slow 

To take advantage of these ills. 

At first upon the distant hills 
The shattered remnants of the foe 
Began to show themselves ; then grown 

More bold, and in their strength increased, 
They pushed their lines into a zone 
Of posts about the little force 

Still left the Briton, and ne'er ceased 

To smite and harry, till retreat 
Remained him as his last recourse ! — 

Flight, or remediless defeat ! 

He fled ! What needs that I should trace 



224 HESTER. 

The wanderers, as from place to place 
They hied them — or as prudence urged, 
Or lurking spies, where none their flight 
Dared follow ? — oft at dead of night, 
O'er sunken glen and craggy height, 
The starry lamps their only guide ; 
Or on the desert's trackless wide, 
By day, when in wild billows surged 
The sands before the dread simoom, 
And swept athwart the heavens like brume 
Driven landward from the storm-scourged sea ; 
Or when more dreaded than the stun 
Of desert blast, the round, red sun, 
High in the blue immensity, 
Shot down his stinging spears of flame, 
To sear their sight, and scath, and maim, 
Till life seemed scarcely worth the game 
Of striving for ! 

Let it suffice 
That after weary months of toil, 
And desert wandering, and disguise, 
And frequent, far detours to foil 



* 

JEWS OF DAMASCUS. 225 



The pasha's omnipresent spies, 
Grown desperate, they boldly passed 

The thronged gates of Damascus ! Here 
Among the friendly Jews, at last, 

They found unstinted aid and cheer. 

Much is the faithful Israelite 

By haughty Turk scorned and despised ; 

In sooth, the only merit prized 
In Abraham's seed by Moslem wight, 
Is what his coffers can supply! 
Hence closely from the public eye 
The Jew hides that which tempts the greed 

Of those in power ; and passing through 

His quarter, nothing meets the view 
But signs of penury and need ; 
Huge old serais, with ruined wings, 
Fallen arch and gateway, o'er which clings 
Rank, scandent verdure ; dingy walls 

And domes of uncouth masonry, 
v Reared from the relics and debris 
Of nobler works ; quaint-fashioned stalls 



226 HESTER. 

And booths, and cavernous bazaars, 
Blackened and gashed with seams and scars 
Of age, and storm, and brunt of wars ; — 

But oft within are sumptuous halls, 

Bedight with every garniture 
And gild of ornament that art 
And wealth of fancy can impart, 

Or untold opulence procure ! 

And here the Israelite grandees, 
Secure from prying eyes, dispense 

Their hospitalities, with ease 
And measure of munificence 

That even the king upon his throne 

In state, might well be proud to own ! 

And one of these received in care 
The Briton and his friend the Jew 

And daughter — need I say to fare 

Most royally ? But why pursue 

These minor matters till I fret 
Your patience ? Yet I needs must say 



THE BRIDAL. 227 

That ere the month had passed away, 
Beneath his princely roof were met 
A bridal party, and despite 

All opposition, Desiree 

Became the wedded wife, or mate, 

Or what you will — I but relate 
The story, lady — of the knight ! 

Here Hester interfered, — " But why, 
Good Carl, give to thy tale such turn ? 
Why not have made the Jewess spurn 

The shame ? or let thy hero die 

Away there on the broomy bank, 

When, come up from the fight, he sank 

So helpless ? or to spies betrayed 

The wanderers on the desert ? — made 

To any mold their fortunes, save 
Of her the willing victim — bride 

I cannot call her — him the knave, 
The villain, the betraying guide ? " — 
" Nay, lady ! as thou wilt, deride ! " 

Said Carl — " I speak of what has been, 



228 HESTER. 

I picture countries I have seen ! " 

" And how, the while, behaved her kin, 

Good Carl ? " said Hester ; " By my life ! " 

Responded he, " they did make strife 
At first, but finally gave in ; 

Not that the honors of a wife 
Were not conferred, so much at least 

As that their faiths in different mold 
Were cast — the customs of the East 

Bar not such nuptials manifold, 
'Mongst high and low — although, 'tis true 
Such use obtains not with the Jew 

As custom. — Then, the knight was bold 
In his advances, and had fame — 
A mighty advocate — and came 
Of gentle blood as that which stains 
Thy cheek, or throbs in thine own veins, 
My lady ! " — 

" What, Carl ! this from thee ! ' 
Cried Hester, as impatiently 

She started up, while glowed her cheek 



HESTER DISCONCERTED. 229 

With deepest crimson, " What strange freak, 

Good Carl, induces thee to speak 

As every word thou utterest rose 

From fact ? and spur me to suppose 
That somehow my own destiny 

Is mixed up in this wondrous tale ! — 
I pray forbear ! it startles me ! " 

"Your pardon, lady, if I fail 
In aught respectful — or ignore 

My place," said he with lowly mein 
And saddened — " as I said before, 

I speak the like of what has been, 

And picture countries I have seen ! " — 
" But not that this concerns me sure ? " 
Broke in his auditor once more. 

The old man turned his head aside, 
As from her prying eyes to hide 
His sallow features ; and there came 
A shudder o'er his iron frame, 
As if some long-forgotten pang 
Had supervened ; and Hester sprang 



230 HESTER. 

Towards him — " Pardon me, my friend !" 
She fondly urged, and took his hand — 
" Carl ! not for all the golden sand 
Of famed Pactolus, would I hurt 
Thy feelings ; 'tis my wont to blurt 

My humor thus — not to offend, 
Believe me ! — pray go on and tell 
Thy story through ! It hath a spell, 

A charm I cannot comprehend ! " 

The old man stammered — 'Twas a freak 
Un thought — he meant — would try to shun 

The like in future — ( but why seek 
To give an import where was none ? ) 

In short, he seemed, at each turn, doomed 
To render matters more adverse, 
Till with forced smile, and mumbled curse 

Upon his stray wits ! he resumed : 

Well, lady ! and no ill betide 
Their lot from adverse circumstance, 
In that sweet clime of love, romance, 



DAMASCUS — ITSFAME. 231 

And flowers, almost of needs, must glide 
Their life with smoothest flow along ! — 
Damascus ! famed in loftiest song 
And story — what a tingling zest 

Of romance, even to the name 
Pertains ! How deeply are impressed 

The wonders of its wealth, its fame. 
Upon the Past ! The heritage 
And home in turn, of saint and sage, 

Of poesy, art, letters, law — 
The stake for which in every age 

Tyrants have played the game of war — 
Jew, Babylonian, Persian, Mede, 
Turk, Tartar, Christian — as their greed 
Of power impelled — to every crown 
A priceless jewel ! Mighty town ! 

Where is the record, where the tongue 
That hath not told of its renown ? 

Projected when the world was young, 
Gorgeous, decayed, remodelled, hurled 

To dust and ashes, it hath stood 

In some sort, where to-day it stands, 



232 HESTER. 

From time coeval with the flood, 
The pride of oriental lands, 
The garden of the teeming world ! 

Delicious clime ! its proverbs say 

Three things can charm dull care away — 

Three — water, verdure, and the grace 

That sparkles in a lovely face ! 
These can it boast ! Its Barrada 
With all its wandering wealth of streams, 

And ever green and blossoming bowers, 
Where the voluptuous Moslem dreams 

Entranced, away the balmy hours, 
And blesses Allah that his birth 
Was here vouchsafed of all the earth — 
Where o'er the wide, wide world are seen 
Such crystal waves, such banks of green ? 
Strange waters ! in their wild ravine 
Pulsating from the great earth's heart, 
As 'twere her life fount, they depart 
As strangely in that weird, wide lake, 

Away out in the desert there, 



DAMASCUS — ITS SCENERY. 233 

Crouched in the stifled, pulseless air, 
Wherein the summer sun doth slake 
His thirst, till from its sandy brink 
And confines, they retire and shrink, 
Approachless, and upon the gaze 
Ascending far, a living haze, 
An atmosphere of purple life, 
Shimmer and dance in filmy strife, 
Commingled with his searing rays ! 

But, lady, mount with me the height 

Of Salahiyeh, wouldst thou bless 
Thy vision with the dazzling sight, 

In all its vivid copiousness ! 
Behind us are the stern, dark crags 
Of Anti-Libanus, where lags 

The morning cloud ; or dull and slow 
(Its trailing fringes torn to rags 
By bristling ridge and splinter), drags 

Its gloom athwart the glens below, 

Whence from its prison house doth flow 
The roaring Pharpar ; far away 



234 HESTER. 

Southward, and bounding the array 
Of frowning steeps that keep at bay 
The sand-wash of the desert, high 

O'er all the rest, the snowy head 
Of Hermon slumbers in the sky 

In solemn calm ; while on the left, 

Bidge reels on ridge, and cleft on cleft, 
Diminishing upon the eye, 

Till their empurpled forms are wed 
With the red desert-waves, which crawl 

Prone 'neath the sunbeam as in dread, 
Still onward to the horizon wall ! 

And wide before us is the sheen 

Of groves (save where the city rears 

Its snowy domes and towers between, 
Or the broad river interferes), 

A wilderness of living green — 
By contrast with the yellow rim 
Of the far sands, and mountains dim 

And blue that 'gainst the sky careen 

Away beyond — become intense 



DAMASCUS ITS SCENERY. 235 

Almost to ebon gloss — its charms 

Outbur sting from the Pharpar's arms 
In hoydenish luxuriance, 
With plethora of leaves and bloom, 
And fruit, and tangle, and perfume, 
Such as the wave-bound Antilles 
And palmy shores of torrid seas 
Can only match ! 

But plunge we now 

Beneath those dreamy vaults of shade ! — 
What swaths of blossoms on each bough ! 

How hardly can the winds invade 
Those dim-lit aisles of leaves and dew ! 
In what strange phase of form and hue, 
The flowers and bloom attract the view 

Where'er we turn, through grove and glade, 
By fount and stream ! What wondrous sphere 

Of fragrance hath its queenly rose 
Flushed with full bloom, (so prized where'er 

The gentle charms of flowers dispose 
Mankind to goodness !) — How replete 
With witching melody the song 



236 HESTER. 

Of the weird bulbul, as among 
The deep shades of his green retreat 
In the thick olives, which the light 

Of noon can scarcely penetrate, 
Seeming to fancy day is night, 

He warbles to his sitting mate ! 

And when the time of harvest comes, . 

How droop the golden sheaves to feel 

The hungry sickle's edge — how reel 
The groaning orchards 'neath their domes 
Of fruit, the lush peach, apricot, 
Date, prune, fig, olive — and what not 
Of oriental fruitage ! how 

Upon the hills, in every nook 
And glen, the o'erloaded vine doth bow 
Whate'er it clings to, with its store, 
Rich as the clusters which of yore 
The spies sent into Canaan bore 

Away from Eshcol's teeming brook ! 

But quoth the eastern sage, what worth 



DAMASCUS ITS WOMEN. 237 

Were even a paradise on earth, 

Without the presence and the smile 

Of woman's beauty to beguile 

The heart when discontents obtrude — 

What better than a solitude ? — 

And hath not the unrivaled claim 

To beauty, of Damascene dame, 

For ages been the inspiring theme 

Of moonshid's tale and poet's dream ? 

Such madrigals, such stanzas rare 

And dulcet, to complexion, hair, 

Lips, eyes — but lady ! I forbear 

The glowing thought ! — yet needs must say, 
If verdure, water, and the grace 
Pertaining to a lovely face 
And form, can keep at bay dull care, 
As eastern proverb would declare, 

A happy generation they 

Who dwell beside the Barrada ! 

And in this soft Acadian clime — 
Exposed no longer, for a time 

16 



2S8 HE 8T E K. 

At least, to fortune's adverse freaks, 

On downy pinions sped the weeks 

And months, with Rudolph and his bride — 

And ere the rapid year had flown, 
She knew the happiness and pride 

To youthful mothers only known 
When in their trembling arms they clasp 
Their first-born ! — 

Not beyond the grasp, 
Were they, howe'er, of evil fate'; 

Yague rumors often reached their ears 
That Haroun's spies were still elate — 

Their Israelitish friends had fears ; 
And by-and-by 'twas counted meet 
That they should seek some close retreat 
Awhile, until the atmosphere 
That marked their horoscope was clear ! 



CHAPTER IV. 



Malfortunes, lady ! it is said, 

Like Arab steeds, are swift of pace, 
And often by each other led, 

And so 'twas in the present case ; 
The old Jew sickened ; worn with care 
And disappointment, and despair 
Of ever raising more to power 
The Jewish throne — his dying hour 

Drew near. 

'Twas on a night of gloom 
And tempest, in a gray old tower, 
The remnant of a once proud fane, 

Left standing from the general doom, 
What time the ruthless Tamerlane 
Swept Syria with his demon horde 



240 HESTER. 

Of horse, and gave to fire and sword 

The city and its countless souls — 
The noon of night ! The simoom roared 

About the buttresses and knolls 
Of the old pile, and far and shrill 
Went wailing over roof and hill, 

As if a host of wandering gholes 
Were on their rounds in quest of prey ; 
And by his pallet Desiree 
And Rudolph, and a sorrowing few 
Of those in whom the aged Jew 
Had most confided, stood — deep awe 

Revealed in every face, as once 
And then again, some searching flaw 
Whooped by, and fanned to brighter light 

The glimmer of the brazen sconce 
Depending from the ceiling's height. 

The dying patriarch's eyes were closed ; 

And those around in converse low 
And sad, surmising he reposed, 

Spake bitterly that he must go, 






THE JEWS LAST HOURS. 241 

So long their highest hope ; that wo, 
And tyranny, and wrong should be 
So potent ; of the mystery 
Of evil — 

" How ! wouldst ask " — quoth he, 
Arousing, u whence doth come abuse ? 
Wherein has mystery a use ? 
Man's only an explorer, and 

The boon most prized is hardest won ; 
Had he no evils to withstand, 

No mysteries to lure him on, 
Stagnation would ensue ! Ay ! crime 

And wrong, — all evils — are but seeds 

Of undeveloped acts and deeds 
Of progress ! Nor comes this of time 
Alone, of earth-life and its scenes ; 
Experiences will be the means 
Of progress in the far career 
Of the hereafter, even as here ! 

" We live to search the realms of fate ; 
There is no end, no ultimate, 



242 HESTER. 

But that which is with God innate ! 

To do, to dare, and to endure 

Is ours, and well ! By fire the ore 

Is purged from dross — 'tis Nature's law ; 

And none e'er have or can withdraw 

From its control ! And what has been 

Of trial, and of sorrow keen, 

And pain, to man, must be again, 
And o'er and o'er, ere he attain 
The glory of that height serene 
To which his inmost doth aspire ! — 
The tyrant's steel, the bigot's fire, 
Have yet their work to do ; and still 
Has Fear a mission to fulfill, 
And priestly sophistry ; and pride 
Of power, still dragging in the dust 
Man's birthright — every crime and lust 
That have, for ages, Heaven defied ! 

But though around we thus behold 
But despots, bigots, cowards, slaves, 
Dust, desert, ashes, ruins, graves, 



the jew's last hours. 243 

Wherein the By-gone' s fate is told, 

So sure as Heaven rules earth, the right 

Is, and it will in time assume 
Domain ! Already is the light, 

That faintly streaks the mists and brume 
Which lower before us, of the morn 
To come prophetic ! — 

Man was born 

For a discoverer ! — his field 

Of search the boundless unrevealed. 
At first the few, the hope forlorn, 
Go forward and erect their posts, 
To be met by the jealous hosts 
Of the crude Past, and held at bay, 
Or overcome and swept away ; 

Yet other squadrons of the true 

And brave press on, and claim anew 
Their stand-points, and repeat the affray 
And sacrifice — thrice, ten times, yea 
A thousand times, and there be need ! 

And when at length, perchance, success 
Doth crown their efforts (for succeed 



244 HESTEK. 

They will at last), close on their lead 

The great array of mankind press. 
And occupy the vantage ground ; 

And send still other pioneers 
On through the lonely wastes to sound, 

Wherever surly error rears 
Its sky-capped towers, their bold demand 
For entrance ! The devoted band 
Is never wanting, to withstand 
An onset, or to storm a sconce 

Or battlement ! 

Such the routine 

Of progress, — such has ever been ! 
And where progression's banner once 
Is planted, there on high it flies 

Forever, gleaming o'er the sky, 
A meteor to the upturned eyes 

Of eager hosts who thunder by 
To new researches or affray ; 
And once subdued, subdued for aye ! 
Whatever bars the dubious way 
As they press forward, in the rear 



the jew's last hours. 245 

All is secure, there 's naught to fear ! 

"The day will come ! — Strange things invest 

My dying couch — I stand alone, 
Or seem to stand, upon the crest 
Of towers which were long since impressed 
Upon the ages, huge, sublime — 

Night lowers above, and round me moan 
The winds of desolation ! Time, 
Past — future — and the way of man 
Athwart the weary waste I scan 
On either hand. Begioomed and drear 
Sweeps the far desert in the rear, 
With here and there the dim-seen ghost 
Of some old landmark, crumbling wall 

And wing, or long-deserted post, 
Awry, or leaning to its fall — 

Receding still upon my sight, 

Till all is lost in utter night ! 

And with their backs towards the glow 

Of day that feebly thus doth show 

The rugged pathway, to and fro 



246 HESTER. 

Grope stragglers who have lost their way, 
Or dubious whitherward to go, 

But seem to fancy heaven and day 
Abide with ages that have fled, 
Nor with the living, but the dead ! 

" I turn me to the Future — still 

A land of gloom and mist to mark ! 

Yet, glimmering faintly through the dark, 
Are rays of sunshine ; on some hill 
Here glancing for a moment, there 

Receding from the storm-tossed wave 
Of dreary coasts, or with wild glare 

Of spectral light, where tempests rave, 

Illumining some rugged pass ; 

And through these wilds, the mighty mass 
Of humankind doth onward bear, 
Surging and swaying like a sea 

Broke from its barriers — on their lead 
A troop of shining cavalry, 

Whose high command few seem to heed 
Of all that huge array, or know; — 



Horsemen of fire, and fiery steed, 
Such as the prophet's servant saw 
Of old when Syria's lord with war 

Encompassed Dothan ! 

" And though slow 

And dubious seem their march, and met 
By craggy rampart, sweeping tide, 
Gulf, chasm, and crater deep and wide — 
By obstacles of every guise — 

Still onward doth the great flow set, 
Right on, at every sacrifice ! 

" It scarcely needs that I explain 

My vision. Thus alone through strife 

And trial will mankind attain 
To nobler views of right and life. 

Such are the phases of the march 
Of progress ! — And the hopeful few, 

Athwart the future's storm-racked arch 
Of cloud, with eye of faith can view 
The bow of promise ; dim, 'tis true, 

And oft eclipsed, but surely there ! 



248 HESTER. 

And when hid, and this few would tire, 

Those unseen messengers of fire, 
God's deputies, have them in care, 

To cheer them onwards and inspire 
To courage ! And the host of man, 
Reckless alike of aim or plan — 
Come jostling after — save it be 

The scattered bands that down the vale 

Of ages, would trace back his trail 
With hope to find his destiny 

Unriddled — as if grew the fruit, 
One looks for of the spreading tree, 

Not on the boughs, but at the root ! " 

Yet once again, in accents weak, 
The dying Jew essays to speak — 
" Where art thou, Desiree ? Come near! 
Give me thy hand ! — This sad career 
Is almost over ! Bright and wide 
Before me sweeps the purple tide 
That sunders earth-life from the shore 
Of the unchanging Evermore ! 



THE JEWS LAST HOURS. 249 

Far voices, far and faint, which bring 
Remembrance of the careless days 
Of childhood ; of the sweet, sad lays 

My gentle sisters used to sing ; 

Of busy hum of town and farm, 

And bird and bee, that in the calm 

Of summer eves, was wont to charm 

My dreamings, and the breath and dew 

Of blossoming trees and flowers that grew 
On cherished hill and vale, remote 
And long forsaken — seem to float 

Upon my senses, and renew 

Their loves within my soul ! 

" And child, 
Stoop nearer, nearer ; on that strand 
Beyond the purple wave, doth stand , 

Amidst the white-robed undefiled, 

Thy sainted mother — as in wait 
To welcome me ! — in form the same 
As when her beauty woke the flame 
Of first love in my heart — imbued 
Too deeply ere to be renewed — 



250 HESTER. 

The same as when she linked her fate 
With mine — but 0, how more elate 
Of loveliness, could such thing be ! 
With placid smile she beckons me 
To come, like that she wore the day 
When from my arms she passed away, 
And left me to combat alone 
The weary years that since have flown ! " 

With many a pause, and shake of head, 
And gasp for breath, had this been said — 
And now he turned upon his bed ; 
And all was lulled to quietude, 
Save when the night blast, still as rude 
As ever, swept exultant by, 
Or down the black chasm of the sky 
With strange, deep ululations broke, 
As 'twere some flying fiend pursued 

By genii of the storm ! — None spoke, 
But in the pauses of the whir 
And tumult, every ear was bent 
Above him, breathlessly attent ; 



the jew's last hours. 251 

His eyes are closed, but once more stir 
His thin, pale lips : 

" My senses swim — 

Where tarriest thou, my daughter? — Speak! 
Give me thy hand — my sight grows dim, 

But heaven grows plainer — here — thy cheek, 
Stoop for my last kiss — now farewell 
Forever, children ! — Hark ! the swell 
Of seraph voices from yon shore ! 

Naomi's blending with the band ! " — 

Here, stretching forth his eager hand, 
As if to greet some one before 
His couch — "I come ! " he cried, " I come ! " 
Then sank back, and in death was dumb! 



CHAPTER V. 



Unbounded wealth came to the knight 
Through the departed Israelite ; 
But who can trust to Fortune's game ? 
Before the month the fickle dame 
Had played him falsely — he became 
A prisoner in the pasha's power, 
In short — borne off at midnight hour ; 
By whom betrayed to this duress, 
What boots it to attempt to guess ? — 
There are friends ; — yet experience shows 
To most of us, that oft with those 
Who seem such, may be plotting foes ! 

But be this so, or as it may, 

He was a prisoner — sooth to say ! — 
17 



254 HESTER. 

Poor half-demented Desiree ! 
In vain did she repine and plead 

From morn till night, from night till morn ; 
For if the ruler's slaves gave heed, 

'Twas but to mock with threats and scorn ; 
She was not even allowed to know 

The place of his imprisonment, 

Or on what charge he was impent — 
And weary weeks and months of wo 
Went by — oh ! bitter, bitter, slow, 

And drear — nor learned she their intent ! 

At last, despairing of success 

With the oppressor, in her zeal 

She formed the purpose to appeal 
To England's stern lord for redress ; 
She'd go in person, and would cast 

Herself, if need were, at the feet 

Of the Protector, and intreat 
Of him forgiveness of the past, 
And present help ! 

Scarce had she caught 



FATE OP THE JEWESS. 255 

(While pondering deeply), at the thought, 
Ere her arrangements all were made. 
Guised as a fellah to evade 
Suspicion, with her baby boy — 
All that she now possessed of joy 
On earth — and one sole follower, who 
Had always to the knight proved true, 
She crossed the desert, and set sail 
From Scandaroon. Alas ! my tale 
Has little more with her to do ! 

Poor De'sire'e ! The Isle of Wight 
Was made, and England's bluffs in sight 
Hung like a cloud on ocean's rim ; — 
Erewhile the hazy sun grew dim, 
And with the darkness of the night 
Came sudden tempest ; and despite 
Their every effort they were borne, 
With shattered spars and canvas torn — 
All helpless — 'gainst a sunken reef 
Amidst the boiling breakers ! 

Brief 



256 HESTER. 

The work those sweeping surges made 
With ship and crew — while on the shore 
The shivering denizens implore 
Each other vainly ; none can aid ! 
And when the morrow morning shone, 
'Midst broken plank, and bale, and stave, 
Whirled shoreward by the toppling wave, 
Along the neighboring beach were strown 
Full many a corse ! Not one remained 

Alive of all on board — and there, 
With sea-grass and the sand ingrained 
Among the tresses of her hair, 
Lay Desiree, so placid, fair, 
And beautiful, and lorn, that they 
Who passed were fain to turn away 
Their eyes for fear they should betray 
Their sympathies in tears, although 
Inured to scenes of wreck and wo, 
And death, which storms in every shape 
Brought to their breaker-beaten cape. 



Poor De'sir^e ! None knew her then, 



THE LONE GRAVE. 257 

Or of her babe — if it were found 
Thereat or after, with the drowned. — 
Among the wild flowers of the glen 

At hand, beneath a storm-wrenched tree, 
Whose branches swept the lonely lea 
For rods, those swart, kind-hearted men 
And matrons made her lowly grave ; 
Her funeral service sang the wave ! 
They left her there to sleep alone ; 

And at her head some cotter placed 
A simple slab of quarry stone, 

On which in rustic lines were traced, 
" The drowned girl^name and home unknown." 
And years there, by the sounding flood, 
This unpretending tablet stood 
Among the wild flowers ; till one day 
A stranger came, and went his way — 
And soon thereafter, in its stead 
A marble shaft above the dead 
Appeared, whereon the stroller read 
The brief inscription, " De'siree." 



258 HESTER. 

" Good Carl, so sadly you relate 

The tale of this poor maiden's fate, " 

Said Hester mournfully, and deep 

In thought — "I scarcely can but weep ! 

Well, well and truly did she keep 

Her bridal vows, and lost her life 

As would become a lawful wife 

In such momentous case ! 

"0, me ! 
This all puissant love may be 

A jeweled dagger in the heart 
Of its unwitting devotee ! 

But now, Carl, for the counterpart 
Of this sad story — what became 
Of him on whom should fall the blame 
Of all this ruin, grief, and shame ? 
I can but pity him — but say, 
Did he meet his deserts, I pray? " 

"Hold, lady ! " quoth Carl, u is it well 
Thus to pursue the fallen ? If love 



THE POWER OF LOVE. 259 

Hath such puissance as you tell, 

Methinks, at least, that it might move 
To some forbearance in his case ! 

Thou hast been told his story ; men 
When they perchance their love misplace, 

Love the more fearfully ! And then, 
I did not claim he was a saint ! " 

" Yet why not give him grace to call 
To aid, at least some slight restraint, 

Ere this unholy passion's thrall 
Had mastered him ? Therein you failed ; 
"Wouldst have the fortress when assailed, 
Succumb at once without a blow ? 
Nay ! good Carl Hildebrand — not so ! 
Not so 1 however you defend 
This thine imaginary friend." 

"Well, gentle mistress, quite enough 
Of turmoil, suffering, and rebuff 
Was his, " said Carl, with mournful smile, 
" And that but meet the case ! — Erewhile 
We left him held in durance vile ; 



260 HESTER. 

But still he had one faithful friend 
Besides the Jewess, to the end — 
The same who o'er the desert sand 

Escorted her to Scandaroon ; 
Returning thence, this servant planned 
Unceasingly for the relief 
Of the imprisoned, and in brief, 

At last obtained the wished-for boon — 
But only at the sacrifice 

Of nearly all the wealth the Jew 
Had left — not deemed momentous prize 

To him in his lorn state, 'tis true ! 

Again alone and desolate, 
He wandered forth, and long his fate 
If any recked, remained unknown ; 
In time, howe'er, it somehow came 
To light, that 'neath another name — 
I mind not, save 'twas not his own — 
He had acquired extended note 

Among the oppressed of orient lands, 
Till, leader of dark Suliote 



FALL OF THE KNIGHT. 261 

And fiercer Montenegrin bands, 

In battle waged against the Turk, 

Where basilisk did ghastly work, 
And sabres flashed in frenzied hands, 
Till carnage gorged the thirsty sands, 

He fell — he fell while on his ear 

His squadrons sang the victor cheer ! 

" Thus, lady, is my story told ! " — 
" And it hath had a wondrous hold 
Upon me, good Carl, to depress 

My heart ; " said Hester. "Ay! despite 
His foul dishonor, scarcely less 

Could I feel for him had this knight 
Been my own father ! — 

" And the test, 
That always right is always best, 
Hath thy recital well expressed, 

Good Carl — that evil will requite 
With evil, manage as we will ! " — 

Returned he, " Lady ! no grave clerk 
Am I to pother morals, still — 



262 HESTER. 

And such your mood — this have I learned 
Through all my life, that whether Turk, 

Or Jew, or Christian be concerned, 
None may their evil doing shirk ! 

That wrong, in any shape, will bring 

Or soon or late, its meted sting, 

As sure as harvest follows spring ! 

" But now good bye ! I see the moon 
Is verging on towards the noon 
Of night. How solemn and how deep 
The quietude ! 'Tis time to sleep ; 
May angels o'er thee watches keep ! " 



END OF CARL HILDEBRAND'S STORY. 



CHAPTER VI. 



Another day had nearly flown 

Since from Ohebeague young Hubart sailed 

For Richmond Island ; yet he failed 
In his return ; and Hester lone 

Sat by the shore in pensive mood, 

In a recess deep in the wood, 
Where far through airy openings shone 
Blue glimpses of the sun-bright seas — 
A favorite alcove where the trees 
Uplifted their great shafts on high, 
And spread their foliage o'er the sky 
In many a lofty arch, and made 
The place with its mysterious shade 
Like some old gothic minster seem — 

The clumps of undergrowth its shrines 



264 HESTER. 

And altars, and the scandent vines 
Depending from the mossy trunks, 
Like censers swung by unseen monks - 
The more so now the sun's slant beam 
Looked in among the columns gray, 
And lit each aisle and winding way 
With that empurpled, dreamy haze 
Which often curbs the day-god's blaze 
In north lands, on long summer days. 

Here Hester seated, still must dwell 

On old Carl's story ; and the spell 
Of strange unquiet it had wrought 
Upon her, all in vain she sought 

Alike to comprehend or quell ! 

Why more than other deft conceit 
Should this one bring anxiety 
To her perplexed brain? — 

But see ! 

From yonder wild, wave-washed retreat, 
O'er which those sinewy birches cling, 
The watchful heron takes to wing ! 



hubart's return. 265 

Some one approaches — hurrying feet 
Come nearer, nearer ; at the sound 

The swift blood dyes the maiden's face ! 
A moment more, and with a bound, 
Young Hubart gains the wooded mound, 

And she has met his warm embrace 
With open arms and throbbing heart ! 
" Our ship is at her trading mart, " 
At length he spake, " and I am here 
Swift as old Squanto's skill could steer.' ' 

" And scarcely knew I, to remain 
And bide your coming, or to fly ! " 
Said Hester, with her deep, blue eye 

Expressive of both joy and pain, 

Fixed on him. 

" What ! " cried he, " again 

So dubious ! — why not bid me go 

At once, so I the worst might know ? — 

Perhaps I had advised thee so, 

Save that I heard that bosom's beat 

But now a different tale repeat! " 



266 HESTER. 

" And what about the heart's deceit 
The preacher talks of? " answered she, 
With an arch smile, whose witchery 
Was compensation to his mind, 
For thrice the fault. 

Ere he could find 
Words for reply, Otraska sprung 
Before them — in her hands she bore 
A missive — " From the Silent Tongue ! " 

With eager fingers Hester tore 
The seal, and read— but as she read, 
The flush upon her features fled, 
And grasping for support the beech, 
Whose long, green branches within reach 
Descended, with a deep-drawn sigh, 
She held the note to Hubart's eye ! 

" Dear daughter, love and peace to thee, 

And every good ! " In this wise ran 
The scroll — (just now what mockery ! ) 
" An Indian runner swift of speed 
Will bear this ; give it careful heed, 



THE UNWELCOME LETTER. 267 

As you'd avoid the scorn, the ban 
Of Heaven and mankind ! Letters mailed 

From England, bear the unwelcome bruit 
That Hubart Walsyngham had sailed, — 
Thou well dost wot of his pursuit — 
Directly bound for Casco Bay ; 
Should he arrive while I'm away, 
Avoid him ; have no word of speech, 
Or missive from him, I beseech ! 
As you count honor dear, and life 

Without reproach — as you would spare 

Myself a curse too great to bear, 

Turn from him as a deadly snare ; 
You never can become his wife I " 

He grasped, the letter and amazed, 
Stunned by the blow, they mutely gazed 
Upon each other ; but the blood, 

Come back at length to Hubart's face, 
Bespoke a variance of his mood, 

And striding to and fro with pace 
Impatient, he exclaimed, " I see 



268 HESTER. 

It all ! — 'Twas with the sole intent 
To put a bar 'twixt me and thee, 

That thou to this far isle wast sent ! 

But Hester dear, could he not deign 
In some remote way to explain 
If such insuperable bar 
As hinted at, exists to mar 
Our happiness for aye on earth ? 
It comes not, sure, of dower or birth ! 
And though I had not claimed such worth 
As others, still me thinks no blame 
Of note attaches to my name ! — 

" Nay ? Hester, 'tis but some strange whim 

Hath seized him — some bewildering thought 
Revolved till judgment hath grown dim 

Upon this point — or worse distraught ! 
Ffaith ! it is — it must be so ! " — 

Here Hester quickly raised her head 
From the unmitigated wo 
In which she had been cast — as though 

To question if were idly said 



AN URGENT APPEAL. 269 

The thought ! Indeed, it seemed to start 
An echo in her own sad heart ; 
And he, with deeper earnestness, 
Went on the sudden thought to press : 

" Not wealth, state, consanguinity, — 

These, Hester, stand not in the way ; 

Then, had he named some future day — 
But mark it, ' Thou canst never be 
His wife ! ' Canst never ! Surely here 

Is proof indubious of the thrall 
Of some illusion, Hester dear ! 

For certes, such debarring wall, 
Save come of blood ties, well we wist, 
Could not in anywise exist — 
And from the Conqueror down, thy line 
Hath never intermixed with mine ! — 
Then wherefore bide this keen suspense 
In future ? Let us hasten hence ; 
I've at Wescustogo a friend 

In clerkly orders, tried and true, 

Come to this wild land to pursue 

18 



270 IIESTEE. 

His holy work, who would attend 
Our wishes — let us hence and plight 
Our marriage vows, at once — to-night ! " 

She started as in deep alarm 

At the proposal — yet her arm, 

Which he had seized, was still detained 
In his — " Demented ! " murmured she, - 
Lost in a world of reverie — 
" My dear, proud father — can it be ? " 

But though the bare suggestion pained 

Her sorely, yet it brought relief, 

Or respite, to that other grief ! 

She called to mind his frequent moods 

Of seeming deep remorse or fear ; 

His quick starts when herself drew near ; 

His absences day after day, 
In the far glens and trackless woods — 
Alone in loneliest solitudes — 

Where even his dogs were driven away ; 
His converse as with things of air, 



A SUDDEN RESOLUTION. 271 

Half imprecation and half prayer, 
Muttered in accents of despair ; 
His change of humors without cause 
Apparent, — and for her to pause 
Was scarcely less than to accede — 

And then the manly Hubart pressed 

Anew so urgently his quest — 
What marvel that she gave it heed, 
As trembling, with her features hid 
Upon his neck, at length she did ! 

This resolution once embraced, 
There was but little time to waste 
In preparation ! But the plight 
Of circumstances favored flight 
Just now, for Carl had gone away 
To some remote isle up the bay ; 
And as for Marjory, good dame 

(Though always loving, kind, and true), 

So that they left her to pursue 
Her own affairs, 'twas all the same 

To her, whate'er they chose to do ; 



272 HESTER. 

She never showed the least desire 
To interfere or even inquire ! — 

Otraska hastened to the shore, 

With fleetness of a mountain deer, 
To trim the pinnace — never wore 

That swart face look of blither cheer ; 
While Hester, calling to her aid 

That strength of will which never lacked 
In an emergency, betrayed 

Naught of the tempest which had racked, 
And still continued to assail, 
Her bosom, though as marble pale. 

With hurried steps she homeward tracked 
Her way, to forecast for her flight 
And future life as best she might ; 
And ere an hour its lapse had marked 
Upon the dial, they embarked ! 



CHAPTER VII. 



Not far from stately Yarmouth town, 
Where the green fields go sloping down 
Towards the shore, 'midst groves of birch, 
There whilom stood a gray old church, 
A relic of the Long Ago, 
When substance was preferred to show ! 

Methinks, in fixing on its site, 
The pious builders would unite 
The charms of lone and lovely scenes, 
In calling to our minds the love 
Of our good Father-God above, 
So potent, with the readier means 
Of teaching from the sacred desk — 
For scarce detail more picturesque 



274 HESTER. 

Could be, — of gentle grassy swell, 
And wooded ridge, and slope, and dell, 
And far, blue water, than is here 
Combined in view ! — And many a year, 

It was on Sabbath the resort 
Of all the country far and near ; 

But Time, the innovator, wrought 
Sad change ! The richer slopes and plains 

More inland lured to settlement, 
Where pther and more sumptuous fanes 

Were built ; and of the hamlet, went 
Some to new homes, and others died 

With age, till the old pile, bereft 

Of all its consequence, was left 
Discarded and unoccupied ! 

No longer in the lambent calm 
Of summer Sabbaths, when away, 
Delayed far on the windless bay, 
Did pious fisher ken the charm 
Of swelling hymn and fervent shout, 
That from its walls came faintly out ; 



THE OLD CHURCH. 275 

No longer did its gilded spire, 

Grown dim with rust, gleam with the fire 

Of morn or eve, above the trees — 

A landmark on the lonely seas ; 

Forever had its glories fled ! 

The golden dandelion spread 

Its crowns thick in the paths that led 
Towards its entrance ; and all day — 
When Sabbath with its holy spell 
Of silence reigned o'er hill and dell — 

Disturbed by ne'er a pilgrim's tread, 
The grasshopper might tune his lay 

Upon the broad stone step before 

The lintel of its oaken door, 

As was his wont, and o'er its floor 

The field-mouse scamper in his play — 

And swallow darting in and out 

The broken panes, with joyous shout 

Of freedom, twitter to his mate 
And nestlings in their nook, below 

The cornice, undisturbed. 

But fate 



276 HE ST E K. 

Had darker destiny in stow 
For the lorn temple — 'twas decreed 
At last, in council of the town 
Assembled, that it must come down ! 
And so with all praiseworthy speed, 
It was demolished ! — and the weed 
And bramble now their pains unite 
To hide almost its very site ; 

And save in its quaint spire and vane, 
Secured upon a rocky height 
At hand, no vestige doth remain 
Of that revered and stately fane ! 

But we would turn back to the time 
When it was new, and in its prime 
Of sanctity, and to the night 
Of Hester and young Hubart's flight. — 
The evening had come on, serene 
And silent, and the shadowy scene 
Around glowed to the glimmery light 
Of the thick stars — and there beside 
The altar stood they, groom and bride ; 



THE WEDDING. 277 

While near, the youthful pastor kneeled 

With face upturned in silent prayer 

To Heaven. A single torch's flare 
But dubiously and dim revealed 
The fashion of the vasty nave 
And solitary choir, and gave 

To every object look bizarre 
And weird. 

And Hester, ashy pale — 
Pale as the floating, snowy veil 

Flung backward from her nut-brown hair — 
But still untremulous and calm, 
Leaned thoughtfully on Hubart's arm ; 
While mute and motionless as stone, 

But with her black eyes keenly bent 

Upon the two, and ear attent, 
Otraska stood apart alone. 
And farther down towards the door, 

The flicker of the torch betrayed 
A group of witnesses, some four 
Or five, or haply half a score, 

Matron and sire, and youth, and maid, 



278 HESTER. 

Whose earnest faces in the light 
Erect, seemed strangely wild and white 

In contrast with the deeper shade 
Beyond. 

The holy man arose 

At length, and coming forward, spake — 

" I will not further undertake 
With my poor counsel to oppose 
Thy wishes, Hubart ! Though I fear, 

My more than brother's love for thee, 
Contracted in a passage drear 

And long across the gloomy sea, 
May Warp my judgment. But for all, 
The worser evil might befall, 
Should I by further doubt prolong 

These troubles ; and may Heaven forgive, 
If in this v matter we are wrong ! " 

Thereat he bade him to receive 
The hand of her he sought to wed ; 
And then the fitting words were said, 
And they were counted man and wife 
Through good and ill report, for life ! 



CHAPTER VIII 



It had been settled to proceed 
Upon the morrow, with all speed, 
To Pemaquid, where dwelt a friend 
On whom young Hubart could depend. 

The morning dawned serene and still, 
And on the broad blue wave, entranced 

In calm, on tranquil isle and hill 
Afar, the yellow sunbeam glanced 

With dreamy softness ; ne'er was morn 

More beautiful from darkness born ! — 

Already round the way-side inn, 

Where they had tarried, horse and guide, 
With full accoutrements supplied, 

Were gathered, ready to begin 



280 HESTER. 

Their journey inland ; but their host 
(One Jethro Far well, then the boast 
Of all the country far and near 
For his abundance of good cheer, 
As for his wisdom) shook his head 
In doubt. 

" We shall have storm," he said, 
" Ere half the day is gone ! — Last night 
I marked the stars were thick and bright ; 
And coming to yon rocky ledge 
In their descent, paused on its edge 
Ere they went down ; and when the moon 

Arose, all was so still and clear, 
Some wakeful bird began to tune 

His song, as thinking day was near 
At hand ! — Those birds are curious things 

To tell of nature's ways ! Dost hear 
How constantly the more-rain sings, 

There yonder in the silver firs 

Beside the ledge ? And mark how high 
The eagle up the gauzy sky 

Is winding, while he scarcely stirs, 



UNEXPECTED DETENTION. 281 

Or not at all, his broad, dark wings ! 
Not surer signs of storm could be, 
For certain ! " 

Hubart paid no heed 
To the old man's garrulity, 

But went on to prepare the steed 
For Hester. — " More the haste worse speed ! " 
Old Jethro pertinaciously 
Continued — "If you're so inclined, 
Go on ! Howe'er, you'll scarcely find 
This Indian trail, through bridgeless flood, 
And plashy meadow, tangled wood, 
And glen, like level English pike — 
But go on, youngster, and you like ! 
I've had my say ; you'll ken too late, 
Perchance, the truth of what I state." 

"And yet," he muttered, as aside 

He turned him, while a look of gloom 
Came o'er his features, " wo betide ! 
But this will be a sorry ride 
For yon pale passion-flower, his bride — 



282 HESTER. 

'Twill surely storm ! Mark, in the room, 
With what a sleepy, reddish hue 
The rising sun is streaming through 
The casement — sign I never knew 
To fail ! and down beside the shore, 
Though not a ripple doth explore 
The beach, the sedgy sea-grass swings, 
As if disturbed by gushing springs 

Beneath it ; and a filmy veil 
Wide o'er the bay's hushed surface clings — 
Not even a fish comes up to mar 
Its gossamery woof ; and far 
The ocean mutters and complains, 
As if through all its mighty veins 

And arteries it felt the gale 
Already deeply throbbing ! Nay, 
They should not issue hence to-day, 
Unless among the woods, midway 
They 'd meet it. " 

Hubart seemed perplexed ; 

" Sure fairer morning never broke 

Upon creation I" thus he spoke 



A STORM BREWING. 283 

Abstractedly, and getting vexed — 

" A storm, forsooth ! what will they next ? " 

Then turning to the Indian chief, 

Old Squanto, who against a tree 
Stood leaning, asked what his belief 

As to the threatened storm might be. 

" The pale-face Farwell hath well said," 
Quoth Squanto — " Wampanhegan's head 

Stands 'gainst the blue sky, still and white — 
Pomola has his wigwam fled — 
It is not well 
The lily bell 

Should sleep among the woods to-night ! " — 

Forced to accede at last, in spite 
Of present sunshine, with a smile 

Of unbelief he flung the rein 
Upon his horse, and for a while 

At least, consented to remain. 

'Twas well he did ; for presently 
The gauzy film upon the blue 



284 HESTER. 

Of heaven, grew imperceptibly 

More dull, in every part it grew 
From nothing as it were, the same, 

Till scarcely could the staring sun 
Look through its meshes ; and there came 
A cavernous silence over hill 
And plain so breathless and so still, 

The people wondered. 

But more dun 
And shadowy, crouched along the east, 

A denser cloud had now begun 

To stretch its bulky form — so blent 

With the gray mists that had o'ersprent 
The sky, 'twas hard to mark where ceased 

The one into the other ! Fast 
And far, however, it increased 

O'er the horizon's edge, and cast 

An inky gloom upon the vast 
Of ocean — with a swinging moan 
It came on, as if upward thrown 
By impent forces, and the grain, 

And trees, and flowers, as if aware 



THE TEMPEST. 285 

Of turmoil near, while yet the air 

Was breathless as the tomb, inclined 

From its approach, as if to find 
A shelter ; then the pattering rain 
Passed by in scattered drops, and brief 

Of intervals, and on the brook 
Wrought fairy rings ; and smitten leaf 

And burgeon turned away, and shook 

Their fronts — and in the moaning wind 
The forests rustled ! 

Not with sweep, 

Like as the thunder tempests burst 

Upon the hills, it came at first, 
But with inconstant, stealthful creep, 
Turning the leaves with gentle touch 

Like evening zephyrs, — with the gift 
Of music in its keeping, such 

As soothes the weary heart ; but swift 

To change its mood, it brought to bear 

All the deep forces of the air, 
And mist, and cloud, till in its clutch, 
Beset with whooping drift on drift 

19 



286 HESTER. 

Of swirling rain, copse, forest, tree, 
Wailed in the strife and agony 

Of the encounter, lank and drenched 

And bowed to earth, or stripped and wrenched ; 
And wild and whitening fled the sea 
In crouching billows to the shore — 

And all between the earth and sky- 
Was one convulsed and frantic roar, 
Such as old Jethro ne'er before 

Had known since first he settled by 
Those lonely waters ! 

Thus wore on 

The lagging hours, inert, and sad, 
And wearisome, till day was gone, 

And night and darkness came to add 
Their wilder features to the storm. — 

Xhe supper over, and behests 
Of labor's duty ended, warm 

And snug, the family and guests 
Were gathered in the common room 

Around the well-piled fire, whose light 
Contrasted cheerfully the gloom 



THE NIGHT BUGLE. 287 

Without, when far out in the night, 
Upon the surgings of the gale, 
Was heard a bugle's long-drawn wail ! 
And then an Indian war-whoop smote 
Upon their ears, but less remote. 

All started, and old Jethro strode 

Towards the window, but in vain 
He looked ; for round the lone abode 

Just then a gust of wind and rain, 
More fierce than anything before, 
Came sweeping, rattling rafter, door, 

And window case ; and every pane 
Ran with the deluge ! 

" By my life ! 

But travelers must be distraught 
To be abroad in such a strife ♦ 

Of elements, when even a bear 
Would cower in his inmost lair ! " 
Said he, returning to his chair. — 

Again the tempest riot brought 
The bugle's blast, far off and lone, 



288 HESTER. 

Then nearer whirled as if 'twere blown 
Close by the ridge with triple chime 
Of ti-ra-la ! " Strange goings on ! " 

The old inn-keeper mused, " but thanks ! 
The French and salvages are gone 
Content — or it were just the time 

To look for their infernal pranks ! " 

u And yet was that no mounseer's blast ; — 

I know them well " — continued he ; 
" But savors of the times long passed, 

Of hawking sports and venery, 
Of dear old England ! " 

At the name 
Of England, Jethro's patient dame 
Grew thoughtful ; and as fancy's dreams 
Dwelt on the green fields, gentle streams, 
And blue hills of the mother-land — 
The ivied cot where she was born, 
The loving friends and kin all lorn 
And scattered far, she raised her hand 
To hide the tear that would rebel, 



REMINISCENCES. 289 

And but a moment after fell 
Upon the rounded, rosy cheek 

Of the young babe upon her lap — 

(Enjoying there its evening nap, 
And smiling at some infant freak 
Of dream caprice). 

The circumstance 
Evaded not her goodman's glance ; 
" Thou hast been thinking, Agatha, 
Of home," said he, " and well-a-day ! 
Would my own musings thither turn ; 
Yet Agatha, good wife, why yearn ? 
It is not as in days gone by 

With dear old England, now ; the sword 

Of the ungodly hath devoured 
Her sons, or sent them forth to die 

In other lands ; the unrighteous one 
And scoffer guide the reins of State — 
Her Zion lies all desolate — 

Her spiritual Jordan floweth on 
In blood ; " but save with stifled sigh, 
Dame Agatha made no reply. — 



290 HESTER. 

Yet Hester with a throbbing heart 
Heard that wild blast — and pallid grew 
As winter's snows ; too well she knew 
That only old Carl had the art 
Of all the region to impart 
The like, and in her husband's ears 
She whispered hurriedly her fears, 
And both as hurriedly withdrew. 

A moment after from without 

Was heard loud knocking, then a shout, 

Demanding entrance ; but before 

The taverner unbarred the door, 

He seized his broadsword, while his son, 

A sturdy youth of seventeen, 
Took from the wall a lusty gun, 

Which looked as though it long had been 
In service, and with hand midway 
Upon the barrel, stood at bay, 
Eeady to bring it to his eye ! — 
When Jethro looked out, earth and sky 
Seemed total blackness ; but the light 



BELATED TRAVELERS. 291 

Fell on a sorry-looking wight. 

Who, pale and drenched, held by the rein 
A shivering steed ; and at his side 
There stood a well-known Indian guide, 

With folded arms, as in disdain 

Of all the pother ! — 

To the shed 

At hand the weary horse was led, 

And they were welcomed in. — "A storm 
To be remembered this," outspake 
Old Jethro, as he bade them take 

A seat upon the chimney form. 

" You may well say it — storm ? — good lack! " 
Exclaimed the horseman, " I have felt 
The burning simoom round me pelt 

On Afric wastes, without a track 

Or shelter ; I have suffered wrack 

On Coromandel, at the hand 

Of tempest fierce, where burning sand 

Blent in its whirl earth, sky, and main ; 

Have been stormed by the hurricane 



292 HESTER. 

Of Ind, and heard the typhoon hiss 

And howl adown the China seas, 
But never knew such night as this ! 

Storm, quotha ! Boughs of splintering trees, 
Leaves, gravel, stalks, tufts, shattered rails, 

Broke loose from all restraint, and blent 

Together — every element 
Combined adrift ! — not merely gales, 
But maelstroms of rain-riot, squall, 
Spray, foam — from every point, and all 
At once ! — Nay ! good sir — knew I ne'er 
Before such strife of atmosphere — 
Good lack ! methinks my every vein 
Diluted with this searching rain ! " 

" Thou hast," said Jethro, " chosen a day 

Of tempest, for thy travels, sure! " — 
" My business would not brook delay " — 

Returned the cavalier — " Nay, more ! 
If 'twere not that the bridge were gone 

On yonder roaring stream, 'twixt here 

And Harraseeket, howsoe'er 



BELATED TRAVELERS. 293 

The gale might bluster and career, 
I would at every risk go on ! 
But I have done what mortal could, " 
He muttered in abstracted mood, 
As to himself — " must leave the rest 
To Heaven i " 

Old Jethro eyed his guest 
With curious gaze ; and then aside, 

Addressed somewhat exultantly 
His son — " Who knows what might betide 
Our stranger lodger and his bride, 

At this dread moment, but for me ? " 

" Bride ! " said old Carl, with eager mein 

( For why should I essay to screen 
The fact, that brave Carl Hildebrand 
And the fleet Indian who to hand 

Had brought the missive that had been 

The impulse of the lovers' flight, 

Were the new guests), — " Heard I aright ? 

Has been a bridal here of late ? " 

The taverner, alert to state 



294 HE S TEE. 

The news, proceeded to rehearse 

The wedding's details — of the place, 

The time, — the bride and groom, their grace 

Of bearing, fashion, form, and face — - 

Even to the chapter and the verse 

Of St. Paul whence the parson read 
The trembling wife a homily 
On what her duties thence would be 

Towards her spouse — 

" And they were wed ! " 

Said Carl, impatient grown and pale, 

Abruptly cutting short the tale ; 

" They were ! " — The announcement sent a 
shock 
Of anguish through the veteran's frame ; 
But in a moment he became 

Staid as the ocean-beaten rock. 



CHAPTER IX. 



Carl Hildebrand strode through his room 
Alone ; perplexity and gloom 
Upon his forehead — sometimes leapt 
Almost, as though he sought to evade 
Some evil which, close as his shade, 
Still dogged him ; then more calmly stepped, 
Then swerved aside ; then to a halt 
Came suddenly, as if at fault 
In his wild mood, and clenched his fists 
Till every vein about his wrists 
Was knotted, and the scarlet blood, 
Dammed in its channels to a flood, 
Grew purple ! 

Presently the door 
Swung open, and with angry eye, 



296 HESTER. 

Young Walsyngham stands there before 

The old servitor — " Pray, good sir, why 
This strange intrusion ? " cried he — " 'slife 
Concerns it myself, or my wife ? " 

" Wife ! " echoed Carl -"I pity thee ! 
Would Heaven that such a thing could be — 
That I had power to avert the blow 
From her and thee ! but proud sir, know, 
She is thy sister! " — Calm and slow 

Came the rejoinder — " Truly ! sits 

The current thus ? — good Carl, thy wits 

Are getting shoal, or gone astray — 

But I will not with scorn repay 
Thy well-meant whim. " 

" Would it were so ! " 
The sad reply — "I'd barter all 

Of wit, or whate'er I possess, 
To know no evil would befall 

Thine own and Hester's happiness 
From this sad act ! Would 'twere a freak 

Of poor old Carl's demented brain, 



A RIDDLE SOLVED. 297 

And thus lie could avert the stain — 
But Heaven be witness that I speak 
The simple truth 1" 

Young Hubart's cheek 
Grew somewhat whiter, yet he stood 

With folded arms ;• and scarce the smile 

Of humor fled his lips, the while 

Old Carl proceeded to unfold 

The tale he had to Hester told 

Of DesireVs sad love — the same, 

Save that in place of Rudolph's name 
He substituted Ravenswood ! 
And in the fatal shipwreck, save 
Her babe was rescued from the wave — 
By some strange error, or by sham 
Designed, called Hubart Walsyngham 
Thenceforward — and now in the pride 
Of manhood stood there by his side, 
There, with his sister for his bride ! — 

Lord Hubart gazed with steady eye, 
And arms still folded, on old Carl — 



298 HESTER. 

" Here is, i'faith, a pretty snarl 
To be unwound" — but his reply 
Was cut short by a stifled groan 

Behind them from towards the door ; 

And lifeless in upon the floor 
Fell Hester, white as marble stone, 
As cold and silent ! — Urged by fear, 

Not knowing cause to keep aloof, 
Unnoticed she had followed near, 

And heard old Carl adduce the proof 
Of her own hopeless ruin — heard 
The strange recital, every word ! 



CHAPTER X 



Man ! man ! how strange a mystery ! 

The fearfullest calamity 

Gives calmness to the nerves and brain 

Of some who suffer ! I have seen 
A parent o'er his children slain, 

His every child, stand calm, serene, 
Directing fittingly — more calm 

Than those who thronged around, for they 

Grew pale, and shuddering, turned away 
With anguish — no pain, no alarm — 

And yet within another day, 
His head was white as winter's snow ! 
And once I mind me, long ago, 
There was a parent who did save 
His lifeless son, the young, the brave, 



300 HESTER. 

And beauteous, from the tempest wave, 
Where none might aid, and made his grave 
Upon the unknown, homeless wild, 
Where they were cast — his only child — 
Secure and deeply in the sand, 

Beyond the keen hyena's scent, 

And marked the place where lay impent 

The dead with fitting moniment — 
And o'er himself kept such command 
The while, that not a single groan 

Escaped him, not a sign of wo ! 

Yet thenceforth walked the earth as though 
He were its denizen alone, 

A prey to desolation ! — 

So 

With Hubart ; from her pallid brow 
He brushed the sweat, and smoothed her hair ; 
And lifting her with gentlest care, 
Conveyed her lightly to her bed, 
And raised the pillow for her head, 
Deft as the mother when at night 

She hollows out a cosey nest 



FORTITUDE. 301 

For her weaned first-born, and despite 
Her anxious fears, leaves it to rest 
Alone and unattended save 

By guardian angels ! — 

Brief in speech, 
But definite as brief, he gave 

His orders, tranquil as the leech 
Long practiced, working for his fee — 
Applying every remedy 
Suggested by the sympathy 
Of Jethro's good dame ; and although 
Long hours — how wearisome, how slow ! 
Dragged by, and she remained as chill 
And blank as at the outset, still 
He faltered not — nor meantime swerved 

A moment from his charge his thought, 
Save once, and then old Carl, unnerved 

And crushed with the disaster, caught 
His eye — " Here is some sad mistake 
Which I may solve, good Carl ! " he spake — 
" At fitting time ; perchance too late 
To balk the sad decrees of fate — 
20 



302 HESTER. 

But surely so ; and she is mine 
By human law, as by divine — 
Mine, mine alone — unless the bride 

Of death ! " 

No further words were said 
Upon the matter — none replied ; 

And thus dragged on the moments dread ; 
While still the elemental strife 
Went on without. But when her life 
Came back, as come it did at length, 

Though faint and nickering, then his cheek 
In turn grew pale, and waned his strength 

To helplessness ! — 

But wherefore eke 
Our tale out like a prairie stream 

That flows for months to reach the sea ? 

At length she spoke coherently — 
" Where am I, Hubart ? Did I dream ? — 

Methought an angel came to me 
To say, mistakingly I grieved, 
That good old Carl had been deceived 

By specious tales — and I might be 



EXPLANATIONS. 303 

Your own true wife, and yet not break 
The laws of Heaven ! — all a mistake ! " 

" My own true wife ! — none dare gainsay ! " 
Cried Hubart, springing to her side, 
" You are my own, my lawful bride ! — 
But sleep now ; and be satisfied 
With the full tale to-morrow." 

" Nay ! " 
She urged imploringly, " avow 
It all, the worst, the best — and now " — ■ 
And old Carl's eager eyes expressed 
As deep concern in this request ! 

" Then be it so ; " said Hubart, " well, 
You know the race of Walsyngham ; 
"When my grandsire, old Hubart, fell 
' Neath the redoubts at Amsterdam, 
It scarcely needs that I relate 
The escheat, titles, and estate 
Fell to the eldest son and line, 
Then gone abroad to Palestine 



304 HESTER. 

Upon some mission of the Court ; 

Nor how that son came to his end 

In combat with his warmest friend — 
A duel, growing out of sport, 
Like many another such affair. 

His poor wife, crushed with bitter grief, 

Next, in the grave found a relief 
From trouble, and their babe and heir, 
A female , in its nurse's care, 
Home bound, departed from the Bay 

Of Scandaroon — it well may be 
With this same Jewess Desire'e ; 

The ship was wrecked, but from the sea 
The babe was rescued — need I say 

Confounded by good Carl with me 

Thenceforth ? The case is more than plain ! 

It died soon after ; here again 
Were facts to lead our friend astray ! 

My own existence, sooth to own ! 
Was at that time but little known ; 
My father as a second son 



EXPLANATIONS. 305 

Had married secretly, to shun 
Thereby the old earl's ire, who held 

The match beneath him, though the spouse 
Could number in her line, of eld, 

More chiefs and warriors than our house 
Could claim, by scores ! But she was poor, 
A sin sufficient to ignore 
The union ! — I was some months old 

When this fair infant cousin died — 

And there were persons who denied 

The child's decease, so I have heard, 

Foes to our influence, who averred 
My father had in good time told 

The specious story, that he might 
Thereby the more securely hold 

Estate and titles, mine of right 
As being the elder brother's heir ; 

But proof abundant of the sex, 
At hand, of the deceased was there ! 

And he was quite too proud to vex 
Himself about the slander, so 
It was forgotten long ago ! " 



306 I1ESTEK. 

Meanwhile had Carl and Hester hung 
Upon each word dropped from his tongue, 
With breathless hush, and both at once 
Burst forth in vehement response 
Of gratulation, and of praise 
To Heaven ! 

" Thus wondrous are the ways 
Of Providence," said she, while tears 
Suffused her eyes — " and so the fears 
And troubles which have hung for years 
About us, from their mystery 

All the more dread, have flown for aye ! — 
And my poor father — now I see 

How dire the thought that night and day 
Hath dogged him, taunting him alway ! 
The wonder is he was not driven 
Long since to madness ! 

" But high Heaven ! 
What were my fate had Carl's surmise 
Been truthful ! " And she hid her eyes 
In her crossed hands, and shuddering turned 
Away ; while Carl, who madly yearned 



EXPLANATIONS. 307 

To hear each most minute detail, 

And half demented with excess 

Of this unlooked-for happiness, 
Rushed on him with a tempest hail 
Of questions — as 'twere every side 
At once — nor would be satisfied 
Till Hubart o'er and o'er had tried 
To explain each incident most slight — 
Especially of that wild night 
Of wreck, when from the billow's whirl 

(As he a child had often heard 
The tale) they saved the baby girl — 

The old man treasuring every word ; 
How the waves thundered to the reef, 
And pausing, for a moment brief, 
Like crouching tigers ere they leap 
Upon their prey, with mighty sweep 
Sprang forward, clinging to the steep, 
With their lithe, searching fingers wound 
In every crevice — then a bound 
Adown the crag, and all below 
Was one wild whirl of hissing snow, 



§08 HESTER. 

On which went poppling to and fro 
A bundle, dancing like a cork 

Around the boiling basin — such 
At least, had been his nurse's talk — 

And when from the rude breakers' clutch 
Was won the parcel, therein wrapped 

Secure, the infant girl was found, 
Composed as though it had but napped 
A moment — snatched thus from the wave, 
Ere summer fled, to find a grave 

Beneath the grassy burial mound. 



CHAPTER XI 



'Tw^s planned that Hubart should in brief, 

These facts to Hester's father write, 
And that their friend, the Indian chief, 

Should with the note at dawn of light 
Depart — and ne'er had Hester known 
Such depth of joy, as when alone 
Thereafter, with her white arms thrown 
Round Hubart's neck, she marked him trace 
The scroll ! And though about her face, 
In many a twirl and tangled tress 
Dishevelled fell her glossy hair, 
And though in sorry plight her dress, 
Ne'er had she seemed more passing fair 
To him, while thus upon his chair 
She hung, and watched his every look ! 



310 HESTER. 

Sooth ! had the tempest which still shook 
With angry clutch the cabin, wracked 
And piecemeal torn away the roof r 
'Twere doubtful but the spell had proof 
Been to a knowledge of the fact ! 

Night paled — morn kissed the earth, and both 
Blushed crimson ! And the tempest, loth 
To quit the contest, muttering drew 

His forces northward far away, 

Cloud after cloud, till the array 

Was gone from sight ; and rising day 
Burst forth in glory, 0, how new 

And beautiful ! the air all balm, 
The deep, deep sky -so softly blue, 

The atmosphere so wholly calm, 

The dullest could but feel the charm 
In some sort. 

Yet that brilliant morn 

Looked on a scene of havoc dread ! 
Prostrated fences, trees uptorn, 

Or shivered limb from limb, and spread 



WRECKS OF HARVEST. 31 1 

O'er ridge and slope ; and o'er the field, 
The corn and grain, the promised yield 
Of harvest, which so lately shook 

In every breath its trestled gold, 

Ripe for the sickle, scattered — rolled 
In matted swaths to every nook 
And glen, wherever it might lurch ; 
While the more supple elm and birch, 
That had through all the strife maintained 
Their stand, exhausted, wrenched, and strained, 
Drooped, with their long arms listless hung 
About them, like tired guards among 
The wrecks of battle ! 

Sad indeed, 
The scene that claimed old Jethro's heed ; 
But he, good man, gave Heaven the praise, 

That though thus hopelessly bereft 
Of all his crops of wheat and maize, 

His sheltering mansion still was left, 
And of the previous harvest's grain 
Enough, with prudence, would remain 
To last till autumn came again ! 



312 HESTER. 

Herein was true philosophy, 

If nothing more ! If mankind nurse 
Remembrance of adversity, 

It but the more augments the curse ; 
And heaven turns not with every freak 

Of adverse or propitious fate ; 
'Tis what we have, not what we seek, 

Should be the question — heaven 's a state ! 
'Tis what we are at present, not 
How will the future mend our lot ; 

In vain we long, in vain we wait, 
In Vain self-immolated bow ; 

Ours is the present — cultivate 
The paradise at hand, the now ; 
The future ever will remain 
The future, howsoe'er we strain 
To overtake it — and we dwell 
On earth at choice, in heaven or hell ! 

This may be counted heresy 

In some sort ! Every truth at first 
Is such, and brave and timid flee 



ASCETICISM. 313 

Its presence, as a thing accursed ! 
For all, 'tis fact ! Still there are those 
Would deem it impious to oppose 
Despair — those who to suffering cling, 
As if expectant thence to wring 

Perfection ; courting an excess 
Of pain — as gnats which sometimes sting 
Their life away when rankled — this 

By some deemed Christian, is no less 
The pagan's patent road to bliss, 
The platform of his funeral pyre, 
Of every scourge to calm the ire 

Of his fierce gods ! But we digress. 

Perchance it scarcely needs be said 
That Jethro's guests, the newly wed 
And good old Carl, changed their design 
Of journeying further east ! In fine, 
They turned towards their island home. 

Here they arrived as evening close 
Was tinging with its smile the dome 

Of the deep heavens — ye may suppose 



314 HESTER. 

In blither mood than when the shore 
So late they fled! 

But one thing more, 
Did the young bride need to secure 
The sum of earthly happiness — 
Her father's presence and caress ; 
Nor wanted long — for to their view 
Just now appears a fleet canoe 
Around Quohaga's isle, propelled 
By two athletic men, and held 
Directly for the landing place ; 
And in the supple form and grace 
Of one, her eyes were quick to see 
Her noble parent. 

It was he ! 
The Indian runner on his way 
Had met him. Flashed the snowy spray 
Erom their quick blades — and soon he pressed 
His daughter to his throbbing breast. 
His great dread had forever flown — 

His happiness appeared complete ! 

Nor was he less o'erjoyed to greet 



LONGING FOR HOME. 315 

Her spouse — had Hubart's pulses run 
With blood entitled to a throne, 
He had not been less proud to own 

The daring youngster for his son ! 

But little further need be penned 
To bring our history to its end. 
A life upon the lonely sea 

And in the forest solitude 
Had grown to a necessity 

Almost, as 'twere, with Ravenswood ; 
And all continued at the isle, 
And two years ran their rounds ; meanwhile, 

A fair-haired, winsome, chubby elf, 

The lesser transcript of herself, 
Came opportunely to beguile 
The life of Hester, which had been, 
It may be, otherwise serene ] 
To tediousness. — But Hubart's ear 
Was ever all alert to hear 

News of the mother-land ! 'Twas plain 

He longed to see its shores again, 



316 H E ST E E. 

And try his talents in a sphere 
Of wider action ; and at last 

He spake his thoughts — and one fair day 
In autumn came a ship, and cast 

Her anchor in the inner bay ; 

And when at morn she bore away, 
They were on board, sire, wife, and child, 

Embarked for home — and nevermore 
Returned they to the lonely wild ! 

But old Carl, who some months before 
Had wedded Marjory, became 

The island's sole possessor ; there 
He lived in honorable fame 

For years, and ready aye to share 
His hospitalities with all 
Who in his way might chance to fall, 
Or rich or poor — and to the end 
Remained the red man's warmest friend ! — 
He died at last — dame Marjory 

Soon followed ; and their grassy graves 
Upon a wild bluff, by the sea, 

Oft sprinkled by the tempest's spray — 



OTRASK A' S TATE. 317 

( Beneath a lone and lofty tree, 

That marked the spot far o'er the waves ) 
Were known until a recent day. 

As to Otraska, but a week 

Had Hester been a wedded bride, 

Ere she had left the isle to seek 
The wigwams of her kin, beside 

The distant Moosehead's lonely wave, 
Where she abode ; but every spring 

It was her wont to seek the grave 
Of her lost lover, there to sing 

Alone the death-chant, and to deck 

The tranquil spot with forest flowers — 
And each time spent at least some hours 
With Hester, ere that friend for aye 
Had gone. Till once in an essay 

To cross the swollen Kennebec 
In freshet, she was borne away 

Amidst the wild debris and wreck ; 

Ne'er heard of after! 

Poor, bereft, 
21 



318 HESTER. 

And lonely maiden ! None were left 
To seek her — to investigate 
The circumstances of her fate. 
And if they had sought, what avail ? 
None now were left, none, to bewail ! 
Gone to the mansions of the blest — 
Yet truer heart, we will attest, 
Ne'er beat in faithful woman's breast ! 



NOTES 



NOTES 



The name of Casco which it bears, 
Importing in the Indian tongue 
A resting place from toils and cares. — p. 18. 
An aged Indian of the Penobscot tribe, of whom I inquir- 
ed, gave me to understand that the name by which his people 
knew this beautiful bay meant " a resting place." 

None was more beauteous than Chebeague. — p. 14. 
Chebeague — the Indian name of the largest and most pro- 
ductive of the islands in Casco Bay. It has now several 
hundred inhabitants. 

So Knox long years thereafter, when 

America with Albion's might, 

Was pitched in desperation's fight, 
With thunder voice controlled his men. — p. 16. 

The American general Knox, in the war of the Revolution, 
was famed for the strength of his voice, as well as for his 
unflinching bravery. 

Dost know, dear father, of the land 

Whence tower those mighty mountains 1 — p. 39. 



322 NOTES. 

The mountains here referred to are the "White Mountains of 
New Hampshire. They are distant from Portland more than 
seventy miles on an air line (about one hundred by the several 
routes of travel) ; but when the atmosphere is clear, may be 
distinctly seen from that city and other points on Casco Bay. 
Our tale is supposed to date back to a time previous to their 
exploration. They were, however, visited by the settlers as 
early as 1632. 

The Indians believed these mountains to be the abodes of 
invisible spirits, who controlled the winds and tempests ; and 
at times they offered sacrifices to, and worshipped these beings. 
Similar superstitions obtained with the whites; — and there 
are those, at the present day, who cling to a belief in these 
supernatural agencies, and tell of the wonderful experiences 
of their ancestors in regard to them. It is in reference to 
these superstitions that I make the chief Squanto turn away 
from Hester as if with dread, when asked by her for informa- 
tion concerning them (see foot of page 39). 

Wherever I have referred to them in this work, it is by the 
name of Wampanhegan. The aged Indian, referred to in the 
first of these notes, informed me that in the modern idiom of 
the Penobscot tribe, they are called " Wampanhegan Ouith- 
na." By the early historians of the region, they were some- 
times denominated " Waumbeket Methna " — and the similarity 
of the terms seems to indicate the same etymological basis for 
them. 

Inbound perchance for Richmond Isle. — p. 57. 
This island — situated to the south of Cape Elizabeth, and 
less than a mile therefrom — in the early occupation of the 
region, was the principal trading station on the coast eastward 
of Massachusetts Bay. It was variously known as Richman's, 
Richmond, and Richmond's Island. At the present day, it is 



NOTES. 323 

cultivated as a farm ; and except in the mementoes which the 
plow occasionally turns up, bears no indications of its former 
commercial importance. One of these mementoes, plowed up a 
few years ago, was an earthern pot, containing gold and silver 
coins, some of which are still in possession of my esteemed 
friend, J. M. Cummings, Esq., the present proprietor of the 
island. 

* * The island of the Cave, 
The beauteous Indian Quohago. — p. 72. 

Diamond (formerly called Hog) island is here meant. By 
one of the early explorers of the region, it is stated that the 
Indian name of the group of islands in which this is included, 
or of the sound leading to them, was Quohago or Cohago. 
The early settlers of the region were disposed to contract and 
modify the Indian names of localities so as best to suit their 
English tongue ; and it is not improbable that the designation 
Hog, which the island so long bore, was the result of a change 
from Quohago. By an easy transition the change would be 
made. An arm of the sea between Harps well and Phipsburg 
still bears the name of Quohog Bay. 

There is room, too, for belief that Casco, the present name 
of the whole bay between Cape Elizabeth and the mouth of 
the Kennebec River, is but a modification of the same word. 

The name of the beautiful island, to which the lines at the 
head of this note refer (Diamond), was given some twenty 
years since by a party of young men from Portland, who 
visited it specially for the purpose, the author being one of 
the number. With speeches, songs, and sentiments, and a 
copious libation of wine to the genius loci, the new name was 
inducted. 



324 NOTES. 

The solitary more-rain hushed 

In the deep glens his minstrelsy. — p. 73. 

"More-rain" — a name applied in some localities, by far- 
mers, to the Wood-Thrush ( the Turdus Melodus of Wilson), 
probably from the fact that it is most unremitting in its song 
when the sky is cloudy, or the rain is descending. 

Wilson says of this species of bird ( considered by many 
the most beautiful songster of all the feathered tribe of Amer- 
ica) : 

" Even in dark, wet, and gloomy weather, when scarce a 
single chirp is heard from any other bird, the clear notes of 
the Wood-Thrush thrill through the dropping woods from 
morning till night ; and it may truly be said that the sadder 
the day, the sweeter is his song. '" 

And o'er his soul 
Scenes of elysian beauty stole. — p. 84. 

In this passage I have endeavored to portray such sensa- 
tions as are said to be experienced by persons drowning. 

'Twas no chimera Brutus saw 

Stride through his tent. — p. 90. 
Plutarch states that while Brutus sat quietly reading in his 
tent near Sardis, the ghost of Julius Caesar appeared sud- 
denly before him, and declared to him that he was his evil 
genius, and that he would meet him at Philippi — the scene of 
the battle where the defenders of Roman liberty were fatally 
overthrown. 

No fleshly monk 
From whom the imperial Russian shrunk. — p. 90. 
There was much talk in St. Petersburg concerning a super- 
natural visitation which the Emperor Nicholas experienced, 



NOTES. 325 

some few months before his death — and the matter made no 
little stir in some of the European newspapers, whose spec- 
ulations in regard to it were copied quite extensively by the 
American press. As the story runs, the Emperor was seated 
alone in his apartment, which had but one means of access, 
and that in charge of some of his most trusty guards, when a 
monk in sable attire appeared before him, and denounced his 
schemes of ambition, and prophesied wo upon himself and 
his kingdom if he abandoned not his intents. The Emperor 
sprang at the intruder, to clasp only the air, and rushed out, 
sword in hand, exclaiming "The monk! the monk!" But 
the soldiers declared upon their oaths that no one had passed 
in or out. 

No echoes did the footfalls wake 
Of that mysterious, shadowy train, 
Whereof the long-haired Samian spake.' — p. 90. 
Pythagoras, who, it is supposed, had his birth at Sainos. was 
by the ancients sometimes designated as the " long-haired 
Samian. " The accounts of his experiences in regard to spir- 
itual attendants are extant in the annals of his time, which 
have come down to us. 

Worthy the name of Diamond Cove. — p. 96. 
A sheltered inlet, at the north-eastern extremity of Dia- 
mond Island, Casco Bay, still preserved in all its primitive 
wealth of woods, rocks, and wild flowers — a place much fre- 
quented by pic-nic parties from Portland, and noted through 
all the region round for its picturesque beauties. It probably 
takes its name from the abundance of the crystals of quartz 
which were formerly there found — in the parlance of the 
islanders called diamonds. 



326 NOTES. 

Far away 
O'er many streams, there is a sea 
Blue as the summer skies. — p. 109. 
Moosehead Lake, the source of the Kennebec River, in the 
northwesterly part of the State of Maine, is here intended. 
The region around it is still unsettled, and is famous for the 
abundance of its game, as is the lake for its superior trout. . 

In morning's calm the maskalunge 
And red trout love to leap and plunge. — p. 110. 
The maskalunge, or maskalonge is a large species of pike, 
sometimes weighing sixty or eighty pounds, by some said to 
be found at present only in the great lakes, and the waters of 
the St. Lawrence basin, but I have been assured that it is still 
to be caught in Lake Massawippi in Canada ; but it is not 
reckoned a fish of the Moosehead' s waters. The name in the 
Canadian French patois (masque longe) means long head or 
long snout. • 

And was it not to-day 
We were to seek Merconnig stream. — p. 112. 
Merconnig, or Merriconeag was the Indian name of the 
peninsula of Harpswell, which is some six or eight miles north- 
easterly of Chebeague Island. The stream here alluded to, is 
the narrow inlet on the south-easterly side of the peninsula, 
which penetrates the main land several miles, and nearly in- 
tersects the Androscoggin river at West Bath. It now, I 
believe, forms a part of what is called " Merriconig Sound. " 

The flattered lord 
Of heroes of the festive board. — p. 118. 
Charles II., after the overthrow of the " Cavaliers " at Wor- 



NOTES. • 327 

cester, fled to France, took up his residence at Versailles, and 
spent his time in dissipation. 

" hy the holy fount 
Of Zemzem!— p. 138. 

A fountain by this name is said to exist at Mecca — and 
the Mahomedans profess to believe that it is the same that, 
through Divine interposition, was discovered to Hagar, when 
she wandered in the wilderness, after being abandoned by 
Abraham. The descendants of Mahomet and other Maho- 
medan rulers, drink of its waters as a religious observance. 

That shout! 'tis not the muezzin's cry. — p. 148. 
A muezzin is a person who cries the hour of prayer in Ma- 
homedan countries — generally from the lofty galleries of the 
minarets which are attached to the mosques. 

They entered on a rough defile 
'Midst beetling precipices riven, 
And rent, and torn, in every shape. — p. 155. 
In this and succeeding passages I have endeavored to give 
true pictures of the scenery in the desert of Sinai, and the 
sterile regions bordering the northerly portions of the Red 
Sea — as I have gathered them from various travelers. Miss 
Harriet Martineau, who made the journey from Bissateen to 
Sinai, and thence to Akabah, in her journal kept on the occa- 
sion (published under the title of "Eastern Life"), gives 
graphic descriptions of her experiences in these particulars. 
Speaking of a defile in the peninsula of Sinai, called Wady- 
el-Ain ( the Valley of the Spring ), she says : 

" We found ourselves in a gorge, compared with whose sum- 
mits, Sinai and Horeb appeared almost insignificant. Every 



328 NOTES. 

winding displayed something finer than we had before met 
with ; and at last we came upon a scene to which we remem- 
bered no parallel. We all knew Switzerland, and we all agreed 
that not even there had we seen anything so magnificent as 
this Wady-el-Ain. * * * Deep shadows were flung across, 
and blazing sunshine poured down between. " 

And again, speaking of the rich coloring of the precipices, 
she says : 

" The rocks were the most diversified I ever saw. I noted 
them on the spot as being black, green, crimson, lilac, maroon, 
yellow, golden, and white. " 

While green, 
Broad boughed, and knurled with rampant life, 
The tamarisk and palm upsprung. — p. 157. 

Travelers, in alluding to the botany of this region, speak of 
the palm and tamarisk as the trees generally met with where 
trees can find sustenance enough to grow. 

At times there seemed to swell 
A chime as of some vesper bell ! 
Familiar to the Briton's ear 
It seemed. — p. 166. 

It is well known that such illusory sounds as are here re- 
ferred to, are often heard on the desert. In " Passages of 
Eastern Travel, " published in Harper's Magazine for August, 
1856, the writer, referring to his approach to Luxor, says : 
"I know that on that Saturday night, I heard the church 
bells of my own home sounding over the tossing waves of the 
Nile. Yes, I heard them. I, too, laughed, when I read in 
the books of travels of others that they heard such sounds 
on the desert, but I did not laugh now, for I have learned 



NOTES. 329 

the truth of those sounds. * * * They sounded sweetly — 
clearly, and I sprang to the door of the cabin, and out into 
the starry night, and leaned my head forward to listen to their 
melody. Soft, soft, and sweet they came over the swift river ; 
clear, rich, and full. There could be no mistaking them. " 

Perhaps these sounds might have come from the sand of 
the desert being ruffled by the wind. Hugh Miller and other 
eminent naturalists describe at least three localities where 
similar sounds are produced by disturbing the sand. One 
of these is the beach of a small bay in one of the Hebride 
Islands, called the Bay of Laig — another, Beg Raivan, in Af- 
ghanistan, about forty miles from Cabul ; the third, Jabel Na- 
Jcous, about three miles from the shores of the Gulf of Suez, 
in Arabia. 

Jabel Nakous, or the " Mountain of the Bell, " is perhaps 
the most remarkable of the three. It has been known, says 
Hugh Miller, "for many ages by the wild Arab of the desert, 
that there rose at times from this hill, a strange, inexplicable 
music. As he leads his camel past in the heat of the day, a 
sound like the first low tones of an iEolian harp stirs the hot, 
breezeless air. It swells louder and louder in progressive un- 
dulations, till at length the dry baked earth seems to vibrate 
under foot, and the startled animal snorts and rears, and 
struggles to break away. " 

Mr. Gray of University College, Oxford, according to Sir 
David Brewster, visited it, and describes the noises he heard, 
but which he was unable to trace to their producing cause, as 
" beginning with a low, continuous murmuring sound, which 
seemed to rise beneath his feet, but which gradually changed 
into pulsations as it became louder, so as to resemble the 
striking of a clock. " 

For a full account of the places where these remarkable 



330 NOTES. 

phenomena have been observed, see Chap. 4th of the " Cruise 
of the Betsey, " by Hugh Miller. 

I have no authority for stating that these sounds prognosti- 
cate the gale known as the kamsin, but it requires no great 
stretch of the imagination to suppose that when smitten sud- 
denly by the wind, the desert sands may produce them. 

But for a peerless Almeh, who 
Brushed to the wreck-lined shore, and drew 
Thy cold corse from the billows' strife, 
And by such stress of heavenly art 
As only Allah could impart, 
At length hath won thee back to life ! — p. 169. 
In a popular work on Egypt, published in London in 1839, 
now before me, it is stated, that at Cairo, the name by which 
female singers are designated, signifies a learned woman, 
( almeh ), and " many of them are not unworthy of the title, 
being possessed of knowledge and accomplishments independ- 
ent of their musical acquirements, and are sometimes em- 
ployed as private tutors in the harems of the rich. " 

For ne'er did moonshid's tale express 

Such form of faultless symmetry, 
Such matchless grace and loveliness. — p. 170. 

In the popular work on Egypt, before referred to, the writer, 
in describing one of the public feasts at Cairo, alludes to the 
booths where various exhibitions were going on, and says : 
" At one end of the ring were four moonshids, ( singers of 
poetry ), and with them a player on a kind of flute called 
nay." 

Brow lucid as the henneh's flower. — p. 170. 



NOTES. 331 

The henneh, "beloved of woman, " bears a small but beau- 
tifully white flower, having an agreeable odor. From the 
leaves of the plant, the Egyptians make a preparation where- 
with the women dye their hands and feet, producing a perma- 
nent orange color. 

Hair whose glossy jet 
Would make the kohl itself seem pale. — p. 170. 

The kohl is a black dye with which Egyptian women tinge 
their eye-lids in order to heighten the effect of their already 
black eyes. The dye most approved has for its basis a lead 
ore brought from Persia. It is laid on with a small bodkin 
of wood, ivory, or metal ; hence the oriental poets have said 
that " the mountains of Ispahan have been worn away with a 
bodkin. " 

Bismillah! but thus much can tell. — p. 171. 

All the chapters of the Koran begin with the word Bis- 
millah, meaning " In the name of God." 

Hers is the santon's gift to see 

The wonders of futurity. — p. 171. 
Santon — a kind of Moslem priest, who formerly followed 
in the track of armies, sometimes prophesying — and was 
regarded by the more ignorant as a saint. 



A tarry short 



At ancient Ezion Geber's fort. — p. 175. 
A fortified place spoken of in Biblical writings, at the head 
of that arm of the Red Sea now known as the Gulf of 
Akabah. 

Northward wends 
The pass El Ghor, adust, and wide, 



332- NOTES. 

And weary, walled on either side 
With frowning ridges. — p. 175. 

In Stephens's "Incidents of Travel" I find the following 
description of the Wady El Ghor : 

" Standing near the shore of this northern extremity of the 
Red Sea, I saw before me an immense sandy valley, which, 
without the aid of geological science, to the eye of common 
observation and reason, had once been the bottom of a sea or 
bed of a river. This dreary valley, extending far beyond the 
reach of the eye, * * * is the great valley of El Ghor, 
extending from the shores of the Elanitic Gulf to the southern 
extremity of the Lake Asphaltites or the Dead Sea ; and it 
was manifest by landmarks of Nature's own providing, that 
over that plain those seas had once mingled their waters ; or 
perhaps more probably, before the cities of the plain had been 
consumed, * * * the Jordan had here rolled its waters." 

Beneath a lofty colonade 

In ruined Petra's midnight shade. — p. 183. 

While ruined palace, temple, shrine, 

From the eternal mountain hewn. — p. 185. 
Petra is supposed to be the ancient capital of the Edomites, 
who, as the Scripture says, made their " dwellings in the 
rock." It hardly need be said here, that its ruins are among 
the most wonderful in the world. 

The little rill 
Which 'midst the oleanders wound. — p. 201. 
The plants growing in the gorge of Petra, and some of the 
ravines of the Wady El Ghor, are oleanders, dwarf acacias, 
scarlet anemones, red amaryllis, wild oats, red poppies, broom, 



NOTES 333 



wild fig, mallow, tamarisk, blue forget-me-not, and wild 
geranium. 

Miss Martineau mentions " thickets of oleanders " about 
Petra ; and Bayard Taylor speaks of the abundance of scarlet 
poppies, in some of the more mountainous parts of Syria, 
sweeping up the acclivities so as to make them appear as 
though they were on fire. 

From his hiding place 
Among the dwarf acacias stole 
The amazed gazelle, with timid pace 

And ears raised ; and from gulch and knoll, 
Where the thick, fiery poppies glowed 
Like living coals, the partridge strode. — p. 215. 
In Stephens's "Incidents of Travel," describing his ap- 
proach to Petra, he says, "It was a beautiful afternoon; 
gazelles were playing in the valleys, and partridges running 
wild up the mountains." Other travelers also casually refer 
to these species of game as abundant in the neighboring 
regions. 

But oft within are sumptuous halls. 
Bedight with every garniture 
And gild of ornament that art 
And wealth of fancy can impart, 
Or untold opulence procure. — p. 226. 
Describing Damascus, Bayard Taylor says, "We visited the 
other day the houses of some of the richest Jews, * * The 
exteriors of the houses are mean ; but after threading a nar- 
row passage, we emerged into a court rivaling in profusion of 
ornament and rich contrast of colors one's early idea of the 
Palace of Aladdin. The floors and fountains are all of mo- 
saic ; the arches of the liwan glitter with gold, and the walls 
22 



3 84 NOTES. 

bewilder the eye with the intricacy of their adornments. In 
the first house, we were received by the family in a room of 
precious marbles, with niches in the walls, resembling grottoes 
of silver stalactites. The cushions of the divan were of the 
richest silk, and a chandelier of Bohemian crystal hung from 
the ceiling. Silver narghilehs were brought to us, and coffee 
was served on heavy silver zerfs." — See "Lands of the Sar- 
acen." 

Damascus ! what a tingling zest 

Of romance, even to the name 

Pertains! — p. 231. 

Delicious clime! its proverbs say 

Three things can charm dull care away — 

Three — water, verdure, and the grace 

That sparkles in a lovely face ! 

These can it boast. — p. 232. 
Damascus is situated in the midst of a beautiful plain, with 
the Libanus chain of mountains on one side, and the desert 
on the other. The Emperor Julian styled it, "the eye of all 
the East, the sacred and most magnificent Damascus." It 
has been captured in turn by King David, Tiglath Pileser of 
Assyria, Sennacherib, the Generals of Alexander, the Komans, 
the Saracens, Egyptian Mamelukes, Turks, etc. 

As to modern Damascus, Bayard Taylor in his Lands of the 
Saracen, says: "When you behokLDamascus from the Sala- 
hiyeh, the last slope of the Anti-Lebanon, it is the realization 
of all that you have dreamed of oriental splendor. It is Beauty 
carried to the Sublime, as I have felt when overlooking some 
boundless forest of palms within the tropics." 

Its Barrada 
With all its wandering wealth of streams, 
And ever green and blossoming bowers. — p. 232. 



NOTES. 335 

The Barrada is the ancient Pharpar. "Are not Abana and 
Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of 
Israeli " 2 Kings, v. 12. 

"In a terrible gorge, the river Barrada forces its way to 
the plain, and its waters, divided into twelve different channels, 
make all between you and those blue island hills of the 
desert, one great garden, the boundaries of which your vision 
can barely distinguish. Its longest diameter cannot be less 
than twenty miles. You look down on a world of foliage, 
and fruit, and blossoms, whose hue by contrast with the 
barren mountains, and the yellow rim of the desert which 
incloses it, seems brighter than all other gardens in the world. 
Through its center, following the course of the river, lies 
Damascus ; a line of white walls topped with domes, and 
towers, and tall minarets, winding away for miles through 
the green sea." — Bayard Taylor's "Lands of the Saracen." 

The Barrada gushes from a ravine of the Anti-Libanus 
chain of hills, and its waters, after flowing through the plains 
of Damascus, are lost in a shallow lake on the borders of the 
desert. 

How replete 

With witching melody the song 
Of the weird bulbul. — p. 235. 
Bulbul — the Arabic name for nightingale. 

"What time the ruthless Tamerlane 

Swept Syria with his demon horde 

Of horse, and gave to fire and sword 

The city and its countless souls. — p. 239. 
Damascus was besieged by Tamerlane, otherwise called 
Timour, A. D. 1400, who overthrew the city, and put the in- 
habitants to the sword. 



336 NOTES. 

As if a host if wandering gholes 
Were on their rounds in quest of prey. — p. 240. 
Ghole or ghoul — a fabled demon, who, among Eastern na- 
tions, was supposed to prey upon human bodies. 

I've at Wescustogo a friend. — p. 269. 
What is now Yarmouth, in early times was called Wescus- 
togo, and the name extended to, or was derived from, the 
stream now known as Royal's River. 

Pomola hath his wigwam fled. — p. 283. 
Pomola was an Indian spirit, whose abode was fixed, we 
believe, on Mt. Katahdin, whence he went forth in storm and 
tempest — not on the Wampanhegan Ouithna, or White Moun- 
tains. 

If 'twere not that the bridge were gone 
On yonder roaring stream 'twixt here 
And Harraseeket. — p. 292. 

Harraseeket was the Indian name of a district now included 
in Freeport ; and the name still attaches to a stream or inlet 
of that locality. The "stream" above referred to was the 
Wescustogo, or Royal's River. 



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